TteReli       ofaDemt 
GRarles  Zueblin 


THE  RELIGION  OF  A  DEMOCRAT 


•  • 


.THE  RELIGION  OF  A 
DEMOCRAT 


BY 


CHARLES  ZUEBLIN 

Author  of  "A  Decade  of  Civic  Development,"  "American 
Municipal  Progress,"  etc. 


1908 

B.  W.  HUEBSCH 

NEW  YORK 


Copyright  1908  by 
B.  W.  HUEBSCH 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


TO    MY    FRIEND 

DR.  STANTON  COIT 

WHO  DIVERTED  ME  FROM  DEAD  LANGUAGES 
TO  LIVING  ISSUES 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  TEMPERAMENT  AND  PERSONALITY  .     11 

II.  THE  CONSTRAINT  OF  ORTHODOXY  .     41 

III.  THE  DECAY  OF  AUTHORITY    .  .     67 

IV.  RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH    .  .  101 
V.  RELIGION  AND  THE  STATE  .      .  .  131 

VI.  IMPERSONAL  IMMORTALITY  .  ;.  159 


TEMPERAMENT  AND 
PERSONALITY 


CHAPTER  I 

TEMPERAMENT  AND  PERSONALITY 

THE  great  paradox  of  modern  thought  is 
its  limitless  scope  and  the  insignificance 
of  the  thinker.  The  more  the  human 
mind  explores  infinity,  the  firmer  becomes  the 
conviction  of  the  incomprehensibility  of  its 
vastness.  The  more  science  reveals  of  the  hu- 
man personality,  the  more  does  even  its  ex- 
panding power  demonstrate  the  insight  of  the 
query,  "What  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of 
him?"  The  thoughtful  mind  inevitably  spec- 
ulates on  infinity,  but  generally  in  wild 
stretches  of  the  imagination,  made  seemingly 
intelligible  by  some  petty  human  concept. 
The  logical  method  of  progression  through 
the  universal,  which  is  within  human  compre- 
hension, to  the  infinite,  is  uncommon. 

After  all,  what  do  we  know  of  infinity? 

DUJ 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Science  has  partially  revealed  the  universe,  but 
what  is  beyond  that?  The  very  thought  of 
what  may  be  outside  of  human  knowledge  is 
overwhelming.  This  little  solar  system  of  ours 
is  but  one  of  a  multitude.  The  almost  count- 
less miles  between  us  and  the  sun  are  as  noth- 
ing compared  with  the  distance  to  the  farth- 
est star  we  can  see,  but  beyond  the  uttermost 
limits  of  which  we  can  have  any  adequate  con- 
ception, there  is  still  space,  and  beyond  space, 
perhaps  infinity!  This  infinite  space  has  been 
for  infinite  time  and  will  be.  The  more  we 
know,  the  more  unintelligible  it  seems  to  be- 
come. For  with  our  previous  anthropomor- 
phic methods  of  expressing  God  and  his  uni- 
verse, our  little  human  consciousness  accepted 
in  the  naivest  possible  way  things  too  great 
for  human  reason.  So  we  are  thrown  back 
upon  the  belief  that  these  subjects  are  not  to 
be  expressed  rationally,  but,  as  objects  of 
faith,  to  be  taken  for  granted.  We  cannot 
all  do  that,  and  those  who  cannot  have  been 
placed  in  the  incongruous  position  of  reason- 
ing more  about  the  infinite  and  fathoming  it 
[12] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

less.  The  compensation  is  found,  perhaps,  in 
the  hypothesis  that  the  search  for  the  infinite 
is  as  valuable  to  man  as  definite  knowledge  of 
it. 

Religion  is  the  expression  of  man's  rela- 
tion to  the  universal,  ultimate,  and  infinite. 
However  religions  may  differ,  they  are  com- 
prehended in  this  relation,  and  whatever  seeks 
this  expression  is  religion.  This  conception 
may  answer  at  once  the  demand  for  the  great- 
est common  religious  denominator,  and  the 
criticism  that  religion  will  perish  with  theology. 
There  appears  to  be  no  basis  for  the  sanguine 
expectation  of  Voltaire  or  Ingersoll,  or 
Guyau  *  that  theology  and  superstition  are  to 
be  blotted  out.  The  assaults  of  sceptics  and 
the  constructive  investigations  of  scientists 
leave  most  men  unmoved.  Whether  it  prove 
easier  to  cling  to  an  old,  irrational  faith,  or 
the  new  faith  of  science  be  unsatisfying,  or 
one  possess  the  contented  scientific  mind, 
a  possible  reconciliation  lies  in  recognizing  the 


"  The  Non-Religion  of  the  Future." 

[13] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

common  aspiration.  There  is  a  unity  of  pur- 
pose in  crass  superstition  and  refined  research. 
The  endeavor  to  express  the  relation  to  the 
universal,  ultimate,  and  infinite,  is  more  clearly 
seen  by  the  scientific  man,  more  vividly  felt 
by  the  superstitious.  The  common  life  will 
be  enriched  if  we  can  discover  a  basis  for  the 
unity  of  faith. 

The  religion  of  an  individual,  this  expres- 
sion of  his  relation  to  the  universal,  ultimate, 
and  infinite,  is  the  chief  test  of  personality. 
There  are  many  trivial  ways  in  which  person- 
ality reveals  itself,  and  some  strong  characters 
may  be  indifferent  to  the  deeper  things  of  life, 
but  it  is  when  the  personality  faces  the  great 
crisis  or  shares  the  common  life  that  the  stat- 
ure of  humanity  is  measured.  The  finer  per- 
sonalities are  those  which  try  to  attune  them- 
selves to  the  universal,  and  these  are  found 
often  in  humble  situations  where  the  nearness 
of  the  common  lot  precludes  the  isolation  of 
the  privileged.  Where  the  roots  penetrate 
deepest  there  is  least  likelihood  that  the  tree 
will  wither  at  the  top.  There  is  no  virtue  in 
[14] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

exclusiveness ;  the  richest  of  human  experiences 
come  through  sharing  the  common  life.  Man- 
ifestly, then,  personality  grows  as  it  ap- 
proaches some  comprehension  of  its  relation 
to  the  universe. 

Universality  does  not  mean  uniformity. 
Carlyle  said  that  we  were  once  all  red,  pulpy 
infants,  which  could  be  kneaded  into  any  shape. 
The  Declaration  of  Independence  claimed  that 
all  men  were  created  free  and  equal.  We  do 
not  have  to  believe  these  doctrines,  to  demand 
that  each  personality  shall  enjoy  its  heritage. 
We  may  not  be  able  to  mould  every  child  as 
we  please,  but  we  cannot  therefore  excuse  our- 
selves for  shaping  them  all  alike.  If  their  po- 
tentialities do  not  come  to  fruition,  it  is  largely 
through  disregard  of  that  subtle,  ineradicable 
element  which  determines  personality,  the  ele- 
ment of  temperament.  Each  person  is  a  com- 
bination of  qualities  and  capacities  inherited 
from  immediate  or  remote  ancestors,  and  his 
native  inclinations  constitute  his  temperament. 
The  development  of  his  personality  will  be 
conditioned  by  the  social  environment,  acting 

[15] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

upon  his  latent  powers,  and  his  choices  will  be 
largely  governed  by  temperament.  We  have 
been  misled  by  musicians  and  other  artists  into 
speaking  of  temperament  as  something  pos- 
sessed only  by  a  few.  What  is  meant  appar- 
ently is  that  some  people  have  sensitive  tem- 
peraments, which  react  more  speedily  and 
spontaneously  than  their  intellects. 

When  one  considers  that  temperament  is  a 
universal  possession,  so  little  expressed  in  in- 
tellectual terms  that  it  still  baffles  the  psychol- 
ogists,1 that  it  varies  with  each  individual,  and 
in  every  case  meets  unusual  influences  from 
without,  one  understands  the  claim  that  each 
man  must  have  his  own  religion.  A  race  will 
possess  on  the  whole  similar  temperamental 
qualities,  and  religions  are  therefore  racial  in 
outer  form ;  but  in  relating  itself  to  the  infinite 
and  ultimate,  each  independent  personality 
will  have  a  faith  of  its  own,  for  which  it  is  not 
wholly  responsible.  This  faith,  conditioned 
by  the  common  life,  is  expressed  through  per- 


Ribot,  "  Psychology  of  the  Emotions." 

[16] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

sonal  temperament,  which  becomes,  therefore, 
the  first  object  of  inquiry  in  considering  demo- 
cratic religion. 

There  are,  for  example,  altruistic  and  ego- 
istic temperaments.  The  egoist  may  devote 
himself  to  others  and  serve  them  better  than 
the  altruist,  but  it  is  with  an  effort  to  overcome 
an  obstacle  unknown  to  the  latter.  A  recent 
incident  which  has  attracted  renewed  attention 
is  his  own  revelation  of  his  life  by  Carl  Schurz. 
This  great  German-American  was  a  patriot  in 
the  best  sense,  who  gave  unusual  service  to  his 
native  and  adopted  lands,  partly  motived  by  a 
supreme  confidence  in  himself  which  brooked 
no  discouragements,  such  as  would  have  under- 
mined the  eiforts  of  a  flabby  altruist  of  the 
familiar,  ecclesiastical  type. 

There  are  also  those  who  are  temperamental- 
ly optimistic  or  pessimistic.  The  pessimist  may 
overcome  his  fears  and  acquire  hope.  The 
optimist  may  see  more  of  concrete  evil  about 
him  than  the  pessimist.  The  latter  is  not  nec- 
essarily lugubrious,  nor  the  former  fatuous, 
though  a  pessimist  may  be  "one  who  has  been 

[17] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

compelled  to  live  with  an  optimist."  The  su- 
perficial estimate  of  both  has  necessitated  the 
invention  of  the  term  "meliorist."  However, 
both  optimist  and  pessimist  may  be  working 
for  the  better,  each  hampered  or  aided  by  his 
temperamental  peculiarity.  It  is  not  possible 
to  predicate  whether  the  optimist  will  be  al- 
truistic, or  the  pessimist  egoistic.  The  pre- 
sumptive alliance  of  temperamental  differ- 
ences is  not  demonstrated  by  the  psychologists. 
Our  present  state  of  knowledge  seems  to  indi- 
cate infinite  combinations  of  temperamental 
elements. 

Thus  there  are  emotional  and  volatile  na- 
tures, rational  and  phlegmatic  ones.  Climatic 
and  racial  influences  do  much  to  determine 
these,  but  furnish  no  clue  to  any  given  indi- 
vidual, nor  tell  us  anything  of  the  likelihood  of 
relationship  to  altruism,  egoism,  pessimism,  or 
optimism.  Neither  are  the  distinctions  always 
clearly  defined.  An  unemotional  people  like 
the  Americans  will  lose  their  heads,  as  south- 
ern Europeans  are  supposed  to  do,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  inexplicable  crime,  like  the  Hay- 
[18] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

market  riot  in  Chicago,  or  the  assassination  of 
McKinley.  Then  vengeance  is  demanded  and 
scapegoats  are  sacrificed  by  a  people  who  usu- 
ally are  phlegmatic.  It  is  the  dominance  for 
the  time  of  the  emotional  or  volatile  tempera- 
ments, which  are  sure  to  be  found  in  a  mixed 
race,  even  in  the  North.  The  undemonstrative 
native  American  cannot  understand  a  group 
of  Italians  or  Greeks,  not  yet  Americanized 
and  devitalized — and  washed, — who  greet 
their  newly-arrived,  unprepossessing  brethren 
with  effusive  kisses. 

If  the  forms  which  satisfy  individuals  be 
similar,  at  least  the  inner  experiences  will  vary 
when  genuine.  The  living  environment  alone 
is  enough  to  make  individuality  complex.  To 
this  is  added  the  inheritance  of  the  ages,  and 
one  cannot  say  how  remote  may  be  some  ata- 
vistic influence.  Who  knows  but  that  the 
American  child  of  the  plain,  who  is  possessed 
by  an  irresistible  longing  for  the  sea  or  the 
mountain,  may  be  expressing  the  elemental 
forces  of  the  age  when  his  remote  ancestry 
lived  in  Norway  or  Switzerland?  A  similar 

[19] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

recrudescence  of  emotions  produces  the  reli- 
gious devotee  or  sceptic,  in  apparently  unpro- 
pitious  environment.  One  must  expect  the 
social  and  religious  forms  and  experiences  of 
different  races  and  different  individuals  to  be 
unlike.  It  is  the  acme  of  human  life  that 
there  should  be  these  possibilities  of  differen- 
tiation in  us,  and  these  variations  ought  to  be 
magnified  instead  of  minimized. 

Temperamental  variation  is  not  necessarily 
a  question  of  superiority.  In  our  days  of 
subjection  to  nineteenth  century  thought,  with 
its  wonderful  heritage  of  science,  we  have  ex- 
aggerated the  value  of  rationalism;  we  needed 
it.  There  was  a  time  when  we  ran  riot  with 
our  emotions,  but  we  can  easily  have  too  much 
rationalism  and  too  little  sentiment.  The  rea- 
son for  so  much  conformity  is  because  tem- 
peramental differences  are  suppressed.  The 
spontaneous  expression  of  personality  would 
be  a  gain  to  society,  and  would  make  religion 
more  real. 

Intellectual  capacity  has  no  logical  relation 
to  temperament,  but  is  nevertheless  condi- 

[20] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

tioned  by  it,  so  much  so  that  the  expression 
may  often  seem  more  temperamental  than  in- 
tellectual. There  are  people  of  limited  and 
others  of  large  intellectual  capacity.  We  hear 
of  savage  races,  able  to  count  only  to  five,  a 
fact  as  unintelligible  to  the  average  man  as  the 
versatility  of  Goethe  or  William  Morris,  or 
the  precocity  of  John  Stuart  Mill.  The  in- 
tellectual faculties  of  men  are  of  numberless 
gradations.  We  have  no  standard  by  which 
we  can  absolutely  determine  the  relative  in- 
tellectual importance  of  any  one.  In  our 
schools  we  have  boys  and  girls  whom  their 
teachers  call  stupid,  who,  put  into  another 
school  with  different  methods, — perhaps  man- 
ual training  substituted  for  mathematics  or 
languages, — become  exceedingly  apt.  These 
countless  gradations  we  do  not  discover  by  our 
ordinary  regimentation  of  men. 

When  we  say  of  people  that  they  are  limited 
or  large  in  their  capacities,  we  have  not  said 
much.  Large  capacity  is  not  merely  quanti- 
tative; it  is  represented  in  originality  and  ver- 
satility, yet  one  can  by  drudgery  accomplish 

[21] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

what  the  talented  has  not  done.  The  quick- 
witted will  not  spend  so  much  time  over  the 
lesson,  yet  the  slow-witted  can  pass  examina- 
tions by  persistence  and  perseverance.  Those 
of  us  who  teach  see  it  done,  and  perhaps  re- 
member when  we  did  it.  In  my  own  profes- 
sional course  at  Yale  the  best  linguist  in  the 
class,  the  man  who  wrote  the  most  nearly  per- 
fect English,  was  an  Armenian,  who  had  been 
in  this  country  for  ten  years.  He  had  worked 
at  our  vernacular  and  accomplished  more  by 
diligence  than  we  by  all  our  natural  advan- 
tages. Of  course  all  these  shades  of  intellect- 
ual differences  are  somehow  or  other  coupled 
with  multifarious  shades  of  temperament,  but 
we  go  on  treating  them  all  alike  from  the 
standpoint  of  religion. 

Then  there  are  people  who  are  particularly 
apt  in  the  grasp  of  detail,  and  others  who  eas- 
ily generalize.  The  inherited  influence  of  the 
wider  industrial  experience  of  men  and  the  re- 
striction of  the  domestic  activities  of  women 
lead  us  frequently  to  speak  of  these  types  of 
mind  as  masculine  and  feminine,  The  best 
[22] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

example  in  refutation  of  such  a  restriction  is 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sidney  Webb,1  since  Mrs.  Webb 
generalizes  and  Mr.  Webb  attends  to  details. 
One  might  say  by  conventional  logic  that  she 
is  masculine  and  he  feminine;  but  this  is  a 
poor  characterization  because  it  does  not  take 
the  individual  into  account.  The  distinction 
is  not  one  of  sex  but  of  intellectual  types. 

There  are  also — which  is  perhaps  most  im- 
portant of  all — dependent  and  independent 
minds.  We  do  not  begin  to  see  how  large  a 
part  this  distinction  plays  in  the  world  of 
thought  and  activity.  The  dependent  are 
naturally  orthodox,  and  the  independent  nat- 
urally heterodox.  The  independent  will  not 
conform.  If  he  cannot  read  into  the  creed  his 
faith,  he  ceases  to  repeat  the  creed  and  fre- 
quently leaves  the  church.  But  there  is  a  de- 
pendent type  who  in  absolute  conscientiousness 
reads  his  faith  into  the  creeds.  Such  conform- 
ity appears  in  politics,  in  society,  everywhere. 

There  are  those  who  think  themselves  eman- 


1  Joint  authors  of  "  Industrial  Democracy,"  etc, 

[23] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

cipated,  and  still  subscribe  to  political  plat- 
forms as  barren  and  meaningless  as  any  creed 
ever  written.  The  difference  between  the  two 
is  not  that  the  dependent  mind  is  not  emanci- 
pated, but  that  when  it  moves  it  is  only  to 
become  again  a  fixture.  It  must  have  a  creed. 
It  must  be  orthodox  in  something,  if  only  in 
its  scepticism.  The  scepticism  of  the  depend- 
ent mind  may  be  as  orthodox  as  the  faith  of 
the  unsophisticated  child.  The  scepticism  of 
every  age  is  eventually  determined  by  its  or- 
thodoxy. On  the  other  hand,  independent 
minds  may  hold  fast  to  many  traditions,  but 
the  traditions  belong  to  a  faith  which  they  have 
mastered  for  themselves. 

All  these  varied  personalities,  formed  by  the 
multitudinous  and  inextricable  combinations 
of  temperament  and  intellectual  capacity,  go 
the  way  of  the  world.  It  is  the  same  way  for 
all,  but  it  looks  different,  so  that  the  environ- 
ment is  never  quite  the  same.  It  is  as  though 
the  opportunity  for  the  development  of  per- 
sonality were  the  road  to  be  traveled,  and  the 
incidents  in  the  development  the  transporta- 
[24] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

tion  facilities.  The  road  may  be  wide  or  nar- 
row, rough  or  smooth,  up  or  down;  the  inci- 
dents may  be  bridges  over  streams,  short  cuts 
through  the  woods,  or  a  lift  now  and  then  in 
a  variety  of  vehicles.  We  do  not  travel  the 
same  stretches  simultaneously ;  we  do  not  meet 
the  same  aids  or  difficulties  under  the  same  cir- 
cumstances, or  with  the  same  companions;  we 
do  not  have  the  same  experiences  when  we  re- 
trace our  steps,  for  we  have  grown,  or  others 
have  altered  the  roadway,  or  the  landmarks 
have  disappeared.  We  go  sometimes  with  the 
crowd  and  sometimes  against  it,  but  we  never 
get  our  bearings  until  we  have  gone  at  times 
alone,  and  blazed  our  own  path.  In  the  re- 
ligious or  moral  life,  unbounded  reliance  on 
parents,  or  friends,  or  guides,  prevents  orien- 
tation, and  one  should  learn  to  travel  by  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

Opportunity  for  the  development  of  per- 
sonality is  found  in  antecedents,  age,  lan- 
guage, family,  race,  church,  occupation,  soci- 
ety. The  fundamental  opportunity  for  every 
one  is  found  in  antecedents.  It  is  the  pre- 
[25] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

rogative  of  every  child  to  be  well-born,  but 
every  child  is  not.  Rich  and  poor  alike,  they 
may  carry  to  their  graves  the  marks  of  a  bad 
beginning.  It  is  not  impossible  to  overcome 
the  handicap,  but  those  who  do  may  develop 
backbone  at  the  expense  of  a  weak  heart,  they 
may  hold  their  heads  high,  but  still  limp. 

Perhaps  I  can  best  represent  how  opportu- 
nity affects  temperament  and  general  intel- 
lectual capacity  if  I  describe  briefly  the  career 
of  a  well-known  man.  He  was  bound  over  to 
a  farmer  at  the  age  of  eight,  and  stayed  with 
him  eight  years.  Therefore,  at  the  age  of 
sixteen  he  had  spent  half  of  his  life  as  a  farm 
laborer,  and  he  had  no  knowledge  of  letters,— 
nothing,  in  fact,  of  what  we  call  education. 
But  he  had  a  mature  mind,  for  one  cannot  be 
out  in  the  fields  all  day  without  thinking;  un- 
less, like  the  Maine  farmer  who,  describing  the 
occupations  of  the  long  winter  evenings,  said, 
"We  just  set,  and  think,  and  some  of  us  just 
set!"  When  he  was  released  from  his  inden- 
ture, he  went  to  school  and  to  college.  He 
flew  through  the  grades,  and  completed  a  col- 
[26] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

lege  course  in  two  years.  He  got  enough 
money  by  teaching  to  keep  him  in  the  univer- 
sity until  he  had  been  granted  his  doctor's  de- 
gree, became  a  professor,  and  was  accounted 
an  educated  and  cultivated  man.  Then  he 
spent  five  years  in  Europe  and  returned  a  free 
lance. 

When  I  first  saw  him  I  heard  him  speak 
from  the  platform.  He  gave  one  of  the  most 
interesting  lectures  I  have  ever  heard,  but 
there  was  something  queer  about  it.  It  was 
progressive  and  showed  wide  research,  but 
there  was  something  odd  about  it.  Why  did 
a  man  who  knew  his  craft,  and  thought  so  in- 
dependently express  himself  in  just  that  way? 
There  was  something  about  him  not  to  be 
found  in  the  typical  cultured  man  lecturing. 
It  was  the  result  of  the  long  years  when  he 
did  not  have  opportunity.  Such  lack  of  op- 
portunity would  have  embittered  many  men, 
for  although  he  had  made  for  himself  happy 
fortunes,  he  could  never  reclaim  the  losses  of 
sixteen  neglected  years.  Like  every  man  his 
opportunities  were  limited  by  his  antecedents, 
[27] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

The  age  at  which  opportunity  comes  has 
much  to  do  with  its  value.  In  contrast  with 
the  instance  just  cited,  one  is  reminded  of  the 
unnatural  experience  of  John  Stuart  Mill. 
He  was  a  child  of  exceptional  precocity,  per- 
sonally trained  by  a  pedantic,  but  learned 
father,  who  taught  him  prematurely  all  things 
except  religion,  which  was  totally  omitted. 
Nothing  but  John  Stuart  Mill's  religious  tem- 
perament prevented  his  being  a  prig.  Al- 
though he  remained  rationalistic  to  the  end, 
his  life  was  distinctly  a  religious  one,  but  the 
half -suppressed  wails  of  that  hungry  soul  show 
the  necessity  of  permitting  children  to  be  chil- 
dren, even  to  the  point  of  letting  them  embrace 
superstitions. 

A  child  is  a  product,  not  only  of  parents, 
but  of  the  race,  and  in  accordance  with  its  in- 
heritance of  racial  instincts,  it  almost  invari- 
ably passes  through  a  theological  period,  and 
should  have  the  chance  to  get  orthodox  experi- 
ence. The  spirit  of  the  age  was  in  the  boy, 
reproached  by  his  mother  for  not  saying  his 
prayers,  who  replied,  "No,  I  didn't  pray  to- 
[28] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

night,  and  I  didn't  pray  last  night,  and  I  ain't 
goin'  to  pray  tomorrow  night.  Then  if  noth- 
in*  happens,  I  ain't  never  goin'  to  pray  again!" 
If  the  child  is  not  forced  into  dogmatic  knowl- 
edge beyond  his  immaturity,  his  companions 
or  his  observation  will  supply  the  needed  ra- 
tionalism in  a  normal  home. 

Language  exercises  a  subtle  influence  over 
the  spiritual  life.  In  the  language  of  the 
house  and  of  the  street  it  is  wonderful  how 
many  theological  terms  are  used,  and  although 
the  use  is  predominantly  irreligious,  the  vocab- 
ulary points  to  religious  environment.  The 
majority  of  those  who  use  profanity  are 
doubtless  orthodox.  A  convinced,  conscien- 
tious agnostic  or  atheist  would  hardly  habit- 
ually take  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  but  it  is 
done  quite  casually  by  the  conventional  believ- 
er. Any  religion  which  we  possess,  or  profess, 
came  to  us  after  we  got  our  language,  and  the 
substance  of  it  often  is  linguistic,  rather  than 
the  product  of  experience.  The  influence  of 
language  is  akin  to  that  of  family.  It  is  early 
and  immediate.  We  cannot  always  predicate 
[29] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

that  the  influence  of  a  religious  household  will 
be  religious,  because  temperament  again  must 
be  considered;  but  where  the  spirit  is  religious, 
rather  than  merely  pious  or  theological,  the 
rarified  atmosphere  is  likely  to  keep  the  spir- 
itual lungs  sound. 

It  is  not  possible  or  desirable  to  eliminate 
racial  characteristics.  They  may  be  combined 
in  the  same  family,  in  the  production  of  con- 
trasting personalities,  but  they  are  predomi- 
nantly similar.  Religion,  culture,  politics,— 
all  are  circumscribed  by  race.  To  the  common 
life,  however,  there  comes  most  encouragement 
in  the  experience  of  little  Switzerland.  Its 
twenty-six  federated  cantons  include  not  only 
mountain  and  valley,  pastoral,  agricultural, 
and  industrial  influences;  but  three  nationali- 
ties, Italian,  French  and  German;  three  races, 
Romantic,  Teutonic,  Hebraic;  three  religions, 
Protestant,  Catholic,  Jewish;  and  five  lan- 
guages, Italian,  French,  German,  Romansch, 
and  Yiddish,  inextricably  interwoven  in  the 
finest  example  of  solidarity  recorded  in  his- 
[30] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

tory.  Democracy  rises  to  heights  as  yet  un- 
attained  by  race  or  religion. 

This  is  not  without  moment  when  we  turn 
to  society  as  affording  or  restricting  opportu- 
nity for  the  development  of  personality.  We 
must  not  underestimate  its  significance.  There 
are  standards  of  ethics  and  manners  and  human 
relations  that  fluctuate  with  every  community, 
race  and  nation.  They  vary  in  different  parts 
of  one  country,  even  our  own  country.  There 
is  more  courtesy  in  some  parts  than  in  others, 
more  adherence  to  clan,  more  regard  for  so- 
called  inferior  races.  But  you  can  never  pre- 
dict from  what  you  chance  to  see  in  any  place 
what  is  its  highest  standard  of  morals  or  con- 
ception of  religion.  The  courtly  gentleman 
may  be  a  brute,  more  of  a  brute  than  the  vul- 
gar or  unconventional  rustic. 

All  sorts  of  elements  go  to  make  up  each 
one  of  us,  and  even  the  people  who  are  most 
emancipated  intellectually  recognize  that  it  is 
not  only  practical,  wise  and  courteous,  but  just, 
that  we  should  avoid  offending  too  much  the 

[31] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

social  sensibilities  of  our  neighbors.  There  is 
no  reason  why  we  should  flaunt  our  views  in 
the  faces  of  people  to  whom  they  are  unpleas- 
ant. Yet,  on  the  whole,  we  conform  to  the 
rules  of  society,  not  from  any  scrupulous  de- 
sire to  do  honor  and  justice  to  our  neighbor, 
but  for  the  sake  of  convenience.  It  therefore 
leads  to  hypocrisy  and  affectation.  Whether 
a  man  is  orthodox  or  unorthodox,  it  is  often 
social  cowardice  that  prevents  free  expression, 
and  this  cowardice  affects  the  rationalist  as 
well  as  others.  The  other  extreme  is  that  of 
importunate  manifestation  on  the  part  of  the 
individual  who  thinks  that  thereby  he  demon- 
strates his  puny  grasp  of  truth.  The  people 
who  get  up  in  prayer  meetings  and  shout 
"Amen"  and  "Glory  to  God"  are  of  this  type, 
and  also  those  who  think  that  the  world  can 
only  be  saved  by  voting  the  party  ticket.  One 
cannot  judge  from  the  expression  of  it  how 
radical  a  faith  it  is — it  is  the  type  of  mind  that 
is  shown. 

The  institutions  and  customs  of  society  af- 
fect different  personalities  differently  at  dif- 
[32] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

f erent  times,  but  the  normal  development  fol- 
lows a  chronological  progression  which  is  sim- 
ilar for  all  temperaments,  securing  differen- 
tiation through  the  temperamental  variation. 
Incidents  in  this  chronology  may  be  the  cru- 
cial physical  experiences  of  puberty  and  ado- 
lescence, the  susceptibility  of  school  days,  love 
and  self -surrender  and  the  maturing  influences 
of  books,  travel,  friends. 

In  the  periods  of  puberty  and  adolescence 
the  mind  begins  to  question  the  meaning  of 
life,  and  to  find  the  individual's  place  in  the 
world,  and  that  is  the  time  when  we  are  most 
likely  to  affect  the  character  of  the  individual. 
If  we  do  not  have  a  proper  respect  for  our 
children,  in  the  period  when  their  minds  are 
impressionable,  they  will  secure  their  training 
elsewhere,  for  it  takes  place  at  this  time  willy- 
nilly.  It  is  important  that  this  influence 
should  be  exercised  in  full  cognizance  of  the 
problems  of  the  coming  century,  and  with  due 
reference  to  the  personal  equation. 

If  we  are  to  preach  a  rational  religion,  it 
must  be  to  people  who  are  matured,  but  that 

[33] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

may  be  done  better  if  the  foundations  have 
been  laid  during  this  impressionable  period. 
It  does  not  appear  that  these  foundations 
ought  necessarily  to  be  the  same  as  the  super- 
structure. It  is  not  a  good  thing  to  lay  foun- 
dations of  brick ;  even  when  the  edifice  is  to  be 
of  brick,  the  foundation  should  be  of  stone. 
Children  are  normally  inclined  to  be  orthodox. 
Their  theology  is  necessarily  crude,  and  we 
should  tolerate  the  primitive  in  them.  The 
revelations  of  a  new  world  in  puberty,  and  the 
dreamy  contemplative  period  of  adolescence, 
are  times  to  allow  liberty  to  the  individual  soul, 
not  to  demand  conformity  to  either  orthodox 
or  liberal  religious  institutions  and  dogmas. 
In  the  school,  children  are  helpful  to  each 
other;  the  companionship,  the  friction  of  mind 
on  mind,  the  contact  of  soul  with  soul,  may 
be  of  greater  value  in  forming  character  than 
the  definite  instructions  of  the  class-room,  or 
even  the  influence  of  the  teacher's  personality. 
Morris  was  right  when  he  said  that  fellowship 
is  life  and  the  lack  of  it  death. 

Later,  there  is  the  great  critical  period  that 
[34] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

almost  inevitably  comes,  when  one  is  in  love. 
The  softening  of  rugged  natures  or  the 
strengthening  of  timid  ones,  the  awakening  of 
the  sluggish  or  the  subjection  of  the  aggres- 
sive attends  the  dawn  of  the  light  of  love,  as 
warmth  and  growth  follow  the  rising  sun. 
The  import  for  the  religious  life  can  be  seen 
when  one's  emotions  surge  up,  and  his  egoism 
is  overwhelmed,  because  there  is  something  on 
the  horizon  more  important  than  himself. 
There  must  also  come  a  time  when  the  mind 
opens  to  the  standards  of  the  higher  life 
through  reading  books.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
that  the  majority  are  not  much  influenced  by 
books.  Yet  if  the  right  book  comes  at  the 
right  moment,  it  is  convincing  and  imperative 
in  its  directing  power.  There  is  an  independ- 
ence in  its  acceptance  that  makes  increasingly 
significant  the  democratic  influence  of  the  pub- 
lic library,  which  is  reaching  the  American 
youth  numerically,  far  beyond  the  old  private 
library  or  individual  teacher.  If  we  facilitate 
these  opportunities,  if  we  really  guide  the 
helm  of  such  education,  we  shall  accomplish 

[35] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

as  much  as  if  we  gave  direct  ethical  instruc- 
tion. 

The  advantages  of  travel  and  its  minor  dis- 
advantages are  not  without  moment.  When 
a  young  man  goes  as  a  student  to  Germany, 
and  begins  to  see  the  larger  world,  it  changes 
the  bent  of  his  mind.  His  ideas  of  people  and 
institutions — of  life  itself — all  shift,  and  he 
not  infrequently  throws  away  his  juvenile  be- 
liefs. He  does  not,  therefore,  throw  away  his 
religion.  Yet  sometimes  the  suddenness  of  the 
reaction,  when  his  education  has  been  narrow, 
will  lead  to  unwholesome  rebellion.  But  we 
are  not  going,  in  consequence,  to  limit  travel, 
because  it  broadens  the  mind,  nor  are  we  going 
to  encourage  indiscriminate  travel  in  order  to 
open  the  mind.  With  the  growth  of  the  hori- 
zon of  his  world,  he  gains,  as  far  as  human 
faculties  are  able,  relationship  with  the  uni- 
verse. If  he  cannot  know  absolutely  the  uni- 
verse, he  can  still  get  his  best  possible  con- 
ception of  infinity. 

For  the  adult,  as  for  the  child,  there  is  need 
of  friends  and  fellowship.  Professor  John 
[36] 


Temperament  and  Personality 

Dewey  has  said  that  definite  ethical  instruc- 
tion is  quite  unimportant  as  compared  with 
the  subtle  influence  of  another  personality  at 
the  critical  moment.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  members  of  ethical  organizations  and  the 
communicants  of  the  churches  do  not  feel  that 
the  spoken  word  from  the  platform  or  pulpit 
is  all  the  significance  in  a  meeting  of  people. 
Men  and  women  do  not  always  express  their 
opinions,  but  they  create  an  atmosphere  in  the 
community  and  in  society,  as  in  the  fellowship 
of  religion.  To  have  religion  cordial,  less 
trivial,  with  more  vitality  in  it,  increases  the 
vividness  of  faith.  With  the  revolutions  and 
changes  that  have  followed  the  contributions 
of  science,  with  the  enlarged  critical  attitude, 
and  the  possibility  of  fusing  various  tempera- 
ments, more  people  should  have  genuine, 
strong  personalities  than  ever  before  in  the 
world.  This  ought  not  to  mean  the  denial  of 
religion;  but  that  religion  is  to  be  less  dog- 
matic, more  spontaneous,  more  genuine,  more 
personal,  and  at  the  same  time  more  social. 
It  is  good  to  live  for  others ;  it  is  better  to  live 

[37] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

for  all  the  others.  That  is  the  religion  of  a 
democrat — the  dynamic  to  secure  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  fulness  of  life  for  all  people. 


THE  CONSTRAINT  OF 
ORTHODOXY 


[39] 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  CONSTRAINT  OF  ORTHODOXY 

IF  each  personality  is  to  have  a  religion  of 
his  own  stamped  with  the  hall-mark  of  his 
individual  temperament,  will  the  necessity 
of  drawing  upon  the  vitality  of  the  common 
contemporary  life  still  condone  orthodoxy? 
Orthodoxy  is  the  consensus  of  opinion  of  a 
certain  period;  it  may  be  of  the  immediate, 
but  is  usually  of  the  remoter  past.  Ortho- 
doxy is  not  necessarily  the  most  conservative 
thought.  Progressive  ideas  may  be  incorpo- 
rated into  the  accepted  faith,  as  well  as  conserv- 
ative conceptions.  When  the  Roman  Catholic 
church  declared  the  dogma  of  the  infallibility 
of  the  Pope,  there  was  added  conservatism  to 
faith;  yet  in  the  same  generation,  there  were 
modifications  in  favor  of  liberalism.  Ortho- 
doxy is  a  less  intense  temperamental  expression 
[41] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

than  conformity.  A  man  who  has  been  con- 
victed of  heresy  is  a  man  who  doubts,  but  who 
wants  to  conform,  and  believes  that  he  ought 
to  conform  and  remain  in  the  church.  Con- 
formity recognizes  the  esprit  de  corps  of  an 
ancient  organization  without'  bowing  to  the 
yoke  of  antiquity.  Bishop  Potter  was  asked 
by  a  young  clergyman  if  he,  the  Bishop,  were 
a  high  churchman.  "When  I  came  to  New 
York,"  the  young  man  said,  "I  was  under  that 
impression,  but  now  my  conclusion  is  differ- 
ent." Bishop  Potter  said:  "When  I  came 
to  New  York,  this  house  in  which  I  live  was 
'way  up  town ;  now  it's  'way  down  town."  So 
it  is  quite  conceivable  that  the  church,  thought, 
and  society  may  move  while  we  stand  still, 
and  it  is  not  always  possible  to  remain  ortho- 
dox by  standing  still. 

The  constraint  of  orthodoxy  may  be  seen 
as  a  handicap  on  thought,  as  cowardice  in  mor- 
als, as  destroying  spontaneity,  and  in  the  em- 
phasis of  non-essentials.  This  constraint  is 
particularly  that  of  making  people  cowardly 
in  thought  and  morals.  There  is  a  certain  ac- 
[42] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

cepted  faith  in  which  we  have  grown  up,  or 
we  may  have  adopted  it  from  choice.  It  is 
only  with  an  act  of  courage  and  vigor  that  we 
come  forth  and  announce  a  new  conviction. 
We  do  not  all  enjoy  great  individuality,  but 
there  should  be  opportunity  for  expressing 
what  we  have.  Orthodoxy  tends,  also,  to  em- 
phasize non-essentials.  Look  to  the  history  of 
any  great  faith,  and  you  will  find  that  the 
conventional  expression  of  it  was  marked  by 
the  exaltation  of  non-essentials.  When  we 
try  to  express  our  conception  of  democratic 
religion,  to  discover  a  basis  for  human  broth- 
erhood, we  learn  that  we  must  unite  upon  some 
simple  declaration  of  faith — find  some  great 
common  denominator  by  which  we  may  in- 
tegrate life ;  but  when  we  rigidly  cling  to  some 
orthodox  faith  we  are  laying  the  emphasis  on 
non-essentials. 

Orthodoxy  being  correct  ideas  sanctioned  by 
some  accepted  authority,  it  naturally  governs 
not  only  religious  faith,  but  social,  political, 
and  economic  beliefs.  The  similarity  of  the 
influence  of  the  various  orthodoxies  may  be 
[43] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

appreciated  if  we  speak  of  religious  orthodoxy 
as  devotion;  of  social  orthodoxy,  as  conven- 
tionality; of  political  orthodoxy  as  loyalty; 
and  of  economic  orthodoxy  as  class-conscious- 
ness. 

In  religious  orthodoxy  we  find  on  the  one 
hand  devotion  to  dogma,  and  on  the  other 
devotion  to  sect.  It  is  just  as  well  that  stu- 
dents of  ethics  should  see  that  it  is  commonly 
action  that  determines  thought,  conduct  which 
determines  faith.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that 
some  people's  profession  is  better  than  their 
lives;  but,  taking  society  as  a  whole,  its  con- 
duct is  often  better  than  its  faith — it  is  fre- 
quently more  humane.  For  example,  in 
Great  Britain,  at  the  beginning  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  law  imposed  the  death  pen- 
alty for  the  stealing  of  a  sheep  or  of  five  shil- 
lings. But  the  judges  were  more  humane 
than  the  law,  and  gradually  the  law  had  to  be 
modified.  The  conventional,  the  orthodox  ex- 
pression in  legislation,  had  to  accommodate  it- 
self to  human  conduct,  which  was  better  than 
the  legal  dogma. 

[44] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

So  in  the  religious  life,  it  is  the  slow  im- 
provement of  conduct,  the  gradually  develop- 
ing code  of  morality  of  the  period  which  de- 
termines the  orthodox  faith.  We  may  retain 
the  old  words,  and  still  read  new  conceptions 
into  them,  as  we  do  with  both  creeds  and  con- 
stitutions. Therefore  the  tenacity  with  which 
we  cling  to  a  sect  will  be  greater  than  the  te- 
nacity with  which  we  cling  to  dogma.  Many 
people  conform,  and  remain  devoted  to  the 
church,  because  they  think  they  can  modify 
its  dogma  and  confession  of  faith  more  read- 
ily than  by  going  outside.  There  are  those 
who  scrupulously  do  what  others  cannot  do, 
stay  within  a  church  which  does  not  represent 
their  personal  conviction,  because  they  feel 
that  the  faith  will  triumph. 

It  may  be  argued  that  contemporary  or- 
thodoxy will  ultimately  be  found  incorrect  be- 
cause past  orthodoxy  has  always  proved  false. 
It  is  easier  to  reason  from  analogy  that  the 
current  orthodoxy  we  retain, — religious,  politi- 
cal, social,  economic, — has  no  more  foundation 
than  the  orthodoxy  we  have  rejected.  The 

[45] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

impropriety  of  claiming  any  faith  as  authorita- 
tively orthodox  is  manifest  if  we  observe  the 
conflict  of  the  orthodoxies.  From  the  most 
contrasted  to  the  nearest  of  kin,  the  one  re- 
gards the  other  with  pity  or  contempt.  The 
obsession  with  one's  own  orthodoxy  may  not 
only  constrain  the  intellectual  vision  but  pro- 
duce moral  obliquity. 

There  were  people  who  read  and  accepted 
the  teachings  of  the  late  Colonel  Ingersoll  and 
were  aided  by  them.  But  those  who  were  con- 
sumed in  their  zeal  for  righteousness  rather 
than  rationalism  were  not  helped  at  all,  they 
were  not  led  into  any  higher  life  or  thought. 
He  repelled  them,  and  this  repulsion  was  prob- 
ably legitimate.  It  was  dangerous  to  make 
so  much  of  "the  mistakes  of  Moses."  They 
were  not  the  mistakes  of  Moses,  and  many, 
even  of  the  orthodox,  have  been  moved  by  the 
results  of  modern  criticism  to  see  that  there 
are  two  decalogues  and  two  series  of  laws  in 
the  Pentateuch,  and  that  these  early  books  are 
imperfect  in  many  ways.  But  the  fact  that 
there  were  early  writers  who  endeavored  to 
[46] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

bring  together  these  histories  and  sayings,  and 
attempted  to  reconcile  them,  is  a  greater  tribute 
to  their  intrinsic  merit  than  the  idea  that  they 
were  written  by  Moses.  Colonel  Ingersoll 
would  have  been  just  as  much  offended  as  the 
Christians  were  with  his  books,  if  some  one 
else  had  written  on  the  mistakes  of  McKinley, 
for  Ingersoll  was  one  of  the  most  orthodox  of 
political  adherents.  It  was  the  blunder  of  one 
orthodox  man  having  no  respect  for  the  be- 
liefs of  men  with  another  brand  of  orthodoxy. 
Crossing  in  a  steamer  once,  from  Philadel- 
phia to  a  European  port,  were  a  number  of 
Mormons  going  over  to  proselyte  in  Europe. 
They  were  given  a  chance  to  talk  one  Sunday 
evening.  It  was  unexpectedly  impressive ;  the 
man  who  gave  the  address  was  an  honest  man ; 
he  was  a  devout  believer  and  spoke  intelli- 
gently. He  told  of  the  Mormon  revelation — 
how  the  leaves  of  gold  were  handed  down  to 
the  first  prophet,  how  he  had  them  transliter- 
ated and  translated,  how,  unfortunately,  the 
leaves  of  gold  were  lost,  and  how  the  transla- 
tion also  was  lost.  All  the  evidences  were 

[47] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

gone,  but  they  still  believed  in  that  revelation. 
It  was  a  remarkable  spectacle,  but  what  was 
most  impressive  was  the  contempt  of  the  or- 
thodox people  present  for  this  Mormon  faith, 
founded  on  lost  records.  They  were  entirely 
forgetful  of  the  fact  that  as  regards  the  ten 
commandments  there  is  no  more  secure  foun- 
dation for  the  Jewish  or  Christian  faith.  They 
could  not  see  that  the  virtue  in  their  code  is  in 
its  ethical  quality.  One  orthodox  group  could 
not  understand  another  orthodox  group  in 
points  where  the  basis  of  orthodoxy  was  iden- 
tical. 

A  church  federation  in  New  York  caused  a 
good  deal  of  discussion  and  even  animosity  in 
the  country  because  they  left  out  the  Unita- 
rians and  certain  other  religious  faiths.  It 
was  an  evangelical  organization,  which  unites 
in  a  conformity  which  they  can  comprehend. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  discuss  whether  they  are 
right  or  wrong.  It  is  conceivable  that  if  they 
had  included  the  Unitarians,  they  would  have 
left  out  some  other  faith,  whose  members  were 
equally  desirous  of  serving  the  world.  It  is 
[48] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

not  less  than  the  brand  of  Cain  that  one  type 
of  religion  puts  upon  another. 

During  the  Russo-Japanese  war  most  of  our 
sympathies  were  with  Japan;  and  the  people 
who  sympathized  with  Russia  did  so,  generally, 
not  from  a  consideration  of  the  merits  of  the 
controversy,  but  because  the  Greek  church 
(which  is  custodian  of  the  faith  in  Russia) 
is  more  nearly  akin  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
church  and  the  Church  of  England,  than  is 
the  paganism  of  the  Japanese.  Consequently, 
their  sympathies  went  out  to  the  Russians, 
simply  because  of  an  alleged  religious  fellow- 
ship. But  surely  there  should  be  a  deeper  re- 
lation between  a  good  Japanese  and  a  good 
Christian  than  between  two  churchmen  who 
use 'the  same  words  periodically  in  religious 
worship.  The  communion  of  responsive 
hearts  needs  not  the  sanction  of  the  laying  on 
of  hands. 

Whatever  we  may  feel  about  religious  or- 
thodoxy, we  shall  sympathize  more  with  what 
is  to  us  heterodox  if  we  see  how  far  orthodoxy 
expresses  itself  in  other  phases  of  our  life. 
[49] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Orthodoxy  is  most  conspicuous  in  social  life. 
It  is  not  so  thoroughly  organized ;  its  tradition 
is  not  so  long;  but  it  is  just  as  imperious  in 
social  life  as  in  religion.  It  is  determined 
largely  by  the  upper  classes,  as  they  are  called 
in  Europe;  and  here  by  the  incipient  leisure 
class,  even  though  it  consist  largely  of  noviti- 
ates. What  is  the  foundation  of  the  faith  of 
social  orthodoxy?  Let  us  do  justice  to  it.  It 
has  a  long  pedigree  of  merit,  and  most  social 
usages  originate  in  actual  service  and  real 
courtesy.  But  how  often  it  holds  up  artificial 
standards  and  yields  uncompromising  recog- 
nition to  worn  out  customs !  To  these  is  given 
worshipful  allegiance  by  weak  and  irrational 
conventions.  In  one  of  Howells'  farces,  the 
crisis  is  reached  in  the  hero's  dilemma  of  being 
without  his  dress  coat  for  the  immediate  occa- 
sion. The  play  was  once  the  unfortunate 
choice  of  the  Hull  House  Dramatic  Club. 
The  audience  remained  stolid  and  apathetic, 
with  no  wonted  exuberance  of  enjoyment  and 
applause,  since  they  were  mystified  and  non- 
[50] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

plussed  by  the  agitation  over  an  inconsequen- 
tial misfortune. 

Social  orthodoxy  is  easily  seen  in  the  attitude 
of  well-to-do  people  towards  domestic  serv- 
ants. One  hears  constantly  of  the  insoluble 
problem  of  domestic  service;  we  have  to  put 
up  with  incompetency  and  indifference  at  ex- 
orbitant wages.  But  we  must  have  them — it 
is  said.  It  is  not  merely  a  question  of  trouble. 
It  is  often  more  trouble  to  keep  servants  than 
to  do  without.  But  to  part  with  them  would 
be  a  menace  to  social  position ;  it  is  orthodox  to 
keep  them.  It  is  our  accustomed  faith,  and 
we  do  not  know  any  other.  We  have  tried  to 
solve  the  problem  by  seventeenth  century  per- 
sonal methods,  and  we  are  failing,  not  assur- 
edly' because  of  the  application  of  reason  or 
rationalism,  but  because  we  are  clinging  to  an 
outworn  custom. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  Eugene  Richter, 

in  his  criticism  of  Social  Democracy,  said  that 

the  reason  why  the  Germans  and  other  people 

could  not  enter  upon  such  a  democratic  regime 

[51] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

was  because  it  involved  the  universal  necessity 
of  polishing  one's  own  shoes — das  Allge- 
meinestiefelputzenmussen.  The  heterdoxy  of 
President  Lincoln  is  conspicuous  by  contrast 
in  the  familiar  story  of  the  Ambassador  who, 
finding  the  President  engaged  in  this  humble 
occupation,  exclaimed,  "Why,  do  you  polish 
your  own  shoes?"  "Yes,"  said  Lincoln,  "whose 
shoes  do  you  polish?"  In  America,  where 
quite  a  few  of  the  socially  orthodox  have  pol- 
ished their  own  shoes,  this  special  obstacle  to 
democracy  is  not  so  formidable — yet  it  is  akin 
to  many  other  conventions.  Could  anything 
be  more  puerile  than  to  let  one's  conception  of 
society  hinge  on  anything  so  trivial?  Still  al- 
most every  one,  in  even  the  humblest  society, 
is  similarly  susceptible. 

A  frequent  attitude  toward  the  Japanese 
and  Chinese  is  most  unreasonable  and  may 
involve  us  in  serious  difficulties.  We  have 
had  the  question  before  our  courts,  pushed 
with  all  the  energy  of  the  Pacific  coast,  as  to 
whether  the  Japanese  shall  not  be  excluded 
from  the  same  schools  from  which  we  exclude 
[52] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

the  Chinese.  Quite  aside  from  the  question 
of  oriental  competition,  surely  in  our  commer- 
cial and  economic  relations,  there  is  only  one 
way  to  view  a  man,  and  that  is  as  a  man.  Many 
Occidentals  are  not  prepared  to  view  as  men 
either  the  Japanese  or  the  Chinese,  which  ob- 
viously reflects  upon  themselves  more  than 
upon  other  men.  It  is  safe  to  venture  the 
statement  that  Americans  and  Europeans  gen- 
erally have  a  higher  opinion  of  the  Japanese 
than  of  the  Chinese.  But  this  opinion  may  not 
be  founded  upon  any  special  experience,  or  at 
best  upon  a  very  limited  experience.  At  the 
Saint  Louis  exposition,  I  had  the  opportunity 
of  hearing  a  Chinese  woman  address  several 
thousand  members  of  the  Federation  of  Wom- 
en's Clubs,  and  of  dining  and  spending  the 
evening  with  a  Chinaman.  The  woman  was 
a  doctor  of  philosophy  from  Bryn  Mawr,  a 
talented  woman  who,  not  only  had  the  edu- 
cation of  American  women,  but  in  addition, 
oriental  culture.  They  knew  the  English  lan- 
guage as  we  could  never  hope  to  know  the 
Chinese,  yet  they  were  still  Chinese,  with  thou- 
[53] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

sands  of  years  of  venerable  tradition  bound  up 
in  them.  If  we  have  no  veneration  for  the 
ancient  why  should  we  at  the  same  time  de- 
spise the  immature?  If  the  negro  race  can 
produce  a  Booker  Washington,  surely  it  is 
time  to  abandon  our  social  orthodoxy,  and 
agree  that  "a  man's  a  man  for  a'  that."  Until 
we  do,  we  have  no  right  to  raise  our  voices 
against  religious  orthodoxy. 

If  we  speak  of  religious  orthodoxy  as  devo- 
tion, political  orthodoxy  is  loyalty.  What 
will  not  a  man  do  for  that?  Is  it  loyalty  to 
his  country?  Not  at  all.  Is  it  loyalty  to  his 
fellowmen?  No.  It  is  loyalty  to  party.  Is 
there  any  more  hopeless  orthodoxy  than  that 
of  the  man  who  always  votes  his  party-ticket 
— and  he  is  numbered  by  the  million!  It  is 
more  hurtful  to  us  than  is  wrong  political 
theory.  Mr.  Wells,  in  "The  Future  in  Amer- 
ica" has  shown  us  what  a  remarkable  people 
we  are  to  cling  to  tradition.  Our  political 
thought  is  still  largely  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury; it  has  not  reached  the  nineteenth,  not  to 
say  the  twentieth.  Yet  all  that  devotion  to 
[54] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

tradition  does  not  compare  with  a  man's  fealty 
to  his  party. 

When  the  Democratic  party  begins  to  advo- 
cate municipal  ownership,  and  government 
regulation  of  private  ownership,  it  is  illogical. 
The  Republican  party  is  the  party  of  paternal- 
ism, although  it  has  represented  the  govern- 
ment of  the  strong  against  the  weak.  But 
this  does  not  worry  us  at  all.  When  Demo- 
cratic editors,  who  have  always  believed  in  lib- 
erty and  individualism,  advocate  public  own- 
ership is  it  because  they  believe  in  it,  or  be- 
cause they  are  "democratic"?  No,  but  because 
they  have  a  great  political  organization  to  up- 
hold. One  of  our  most  ancient  and  pernicious 
legacies  is  the  orthodox  system  of  checks  in 
our.  nation.  We  have  the  Senate  checking  the 
House,  the  President  checking  both,  and  the 
Supreme  Court  checking  all  three.  We  have 
all  kinds  of  checks,  by  which  we  hope  to  get 
an  automatic,  political  system.  We  have  even 
introduced  this  limit  of  political  imbecility 
into  our  city  governments.  We  have  in  some 
of  our  cities  two  councilmanic  bodies,  one  to 
[55] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

check  the  other,  and  the  result  is  to  checkmate 
the  people.  We  also  still  cling  to  the  idea 
that  the  best  government  is  that  which  gov- 
erns least.  It  is  an  unqualified  contradiction, 
because  the  best  governed  places  are  those  gov- 
erned most — that  is,  where  the  government  is 
most  efficient,  and  least  corrupt.  When  every- 
thing is  entrusted  to  private  enterprise  it 
means  that  government  is  doing  things  cir- 
cuitously,  clumsily,  corruptly. 

We  have  gradually  grown  to  the  belief  that 
one  man  power  will  secure  results  for  us.  The 
one  man  power  is  an  easy  method  of  carrying 
out  that  system  of  checks.  It  is  the  device  of 
lazy  citizens,  who  do  not  want  to  do  anything 
for  themselves.  That  is  a  legitimate  concep- 
tion if  you  believe  in  autocracy.  Because 
when  you  choose  your  representative,  you  are 
confusing  the  idea  of  democracy  with  the  idea 
that  one  man  is  by  some  miracle  going  to  do 
everything  for  the  public  good,  without  the 
people  taking  any  initiative.  We  can  see  how 
we  came  by  this  way  of  thinking.  Consider 
our  big  corporations,  which  are  so  splendidly 
[56] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

organized;  think  of  a  great  railroad  system 
with  a  genius  at  the  head,  a  wonderful  admin- 
istration— wonderful  facility  with  which  one 
man  is  allowed  to  represent  the  stockholders. 
The  great  object  is  that  the  corporation  shall 
be  profitable,  which  does  not  mean  serviceable. 
If  it  is  serviceable,  it  is  that  it  may  be  more 
profitable.  It  is  one  of  those  illusory  forms 
of  orthodoxy  which  make  us  supine.  We  see 
a  well-managed  organization,  and  we  do  not 
ask  the  question  whether  it  might  not  be  bet- 
ter to  do  things  ourselves — morally,  and  spirit- 
ually, as  well  as  economically  better — to  par- 
ticipate in  the  management  of  our  lives.  In 
American  parlance,  "We  are  after  results!" 
the  method  by  which  Esau  attained  distinc- 
tion in  history ! 

If  political  orthodoxy  is  loyalty,  and  reli- 
gious orthodoxy  devotion,  economic  orthodoxy 
is  represented  by  the  familiar  term  "class-con- 
sciousness." Whether  it  be  the  class-con- 
sciousness of  the  capitalist,  or  that  of  the 
working  man,  it  represents  orthodoxy.  We 
have  been  brought  up  to  bow  before  the  fetich 

[57] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

of  competition.  In  our  economic  ritual  we 
are  accustomed  to  such  antiphonal  responses 
as  "competition  is  the  life  of  trade,"  "business 
is  business,"  "every  man  for  himself  and  the 
devil  take  the  hindmost;"  "let  him  get  who  can, 
and  keep  who  is  able;"  or,  as  it  has  been  re- 
cently revised,  "I  want  what  I  want  when  I 
want  it."  That  expresses  the  economic  faith 
of  most  of  us,  or  the  "service"  we  render  in 
lieu  of  faith.  It  is  peculiarly  difficult  for  us 
to  turn  to  any  other  belief.  The  person  who 
disbelieves  in  competition  must  follow  his  in- 
dustrial leaders,  he  cannot  altogether  abandon 
in  practice,  his  orthodox,  economic  faith,  which 
seems  to  be  completely  supported  by  the  trend 
of  events,  by  his  own  success  or  failure. 

Through  the  last  century,  or  more,  of  great 
industrial  development  there  have  come  into 
play  certain  forces  so  convincing  in  their  re- 
sults that  they  condition  our  economic  faith. 
Science  and  industry,  practical  science  and  the 
great  doctrine  of  evolution,  all  seem  to  con- 
firm our  faith  in  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 
There  is  nothing  more  logical  than  going  back 
[58] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

to  nature.  There  are  still  multitudes  of  peo- 
ple who  do  not  follow  Darwin  in  his  "Origin 
of  Species,"  but,  on  the  whole,  the  idea  of 
evolution  has  percolated  and  permeated  all 
through  human  consciousness,  until  we  accept 
so  much  as  seems  to  conform  to  our  methods 
of  industry. 

"Hustle"  is  our  god,  and  Mr.  Kidd  and  Mr. 
Mallock  are  his  prophets.  In  the  utterances 
of  Mr.  Mallock  and  of  Professor  Barrett 
Wendell  we  have  the  apotheosis  of  genius. 
They  say  that  the  great  man  produces  by  his 
genius  what  the  multitude  cannot  produce,  and 
the  power  of  the  social  genius  raises  the  multi- 
tude to  the  maximum  of  liberty.  But  they 
overlook  the  fact  that  the  evolution  of  the  mul- 
titude makes  the  genius  possible.  Man  makes 
a  railroad,  and  more  people  can  travel.  The 
standard  of  living  is  raised,  and  all  want  to  be 
able  to  come  up  to  that  standard.  The  big 
man  is  enriched  because  he  does  these  things, 
but  he  lives  because  we  live;  we  do  not  live  be- 
cause he  lives. 

Then  again  there  is  another  economic  shib- 
[59] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

boleth,  the  Anglo-Saxon  idea  of  liberty.  It 
has  run  riot  with  us.  It  means  the  right, 
seemingly,  to  do  as  one  pleases,  and  most  of  us 
live  by  this  faith.  In  all  candor, — do  we  not? 
Do  we  not,  whatever  our  social  or  political  af- 
filiation, obey  that  facile  law  when  the  crucial 
moment  comes?  Do  we  not  take  the  law  into 
our  own  hands?  Our  ethical  standards  are 
such  that  we  are  tempted  to  do  it  in  many  cases. 
We  do  not  perhaps  rob  great  corporations,  or 
break  into  banks,  or  steal  from  our  neighbor — 
but  we  fail  to  pay  our  taxes,  or  we  beat  the 
railway  companies  or  the  custom  house.  There 
are  various  methods  by  which  we  can  condone 
our  offenses.  What  is  the  use  of  paying  the 
full  rate  when  other  people  are  paying  one- 
half  or  one-fifth.  There  is  no  justice  in  a  man's 
laying  on  himself  these  unnecessary  burdens! 
But  if  the  law  is  unjust,  it  should  be  modified. 
To  disobey  the  law  is  to  demand  personal  lib- 
erty against  social  welfare.  Until  we  can  get 
our  practical  ethics  attuned  to  fine,  moral  dis- 
criminations we  are  still  orthodox  economists. 
Perhaps  the  most  significant  example  of  this 
[60] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

tendency  to  adhere  to  orthodox  economic  faith 
is  represented  in  the  revolt  against  it.  Many 
are  coming  to  see  that  organized  society  is  su- 
perior to  the  individual,  that  the  welfare  of 
the  mass  is  better  than  the  welfare  of  the  unit. 
In  the  extension  of  social  functions  lies  the 
hope  of  laying  the  foundations  for  a  sound 
political  structure.  But  the  people  who  most 
clearly  enunciate  this  doctrine,  who  see  the 
tendency  of  the  great  corporations  to  central- 
ize power  and  wealth, — the  socialists, — have 
their  faith  built  upon  orthodox  foundations. 
It  is  curious  that  socialist  economics  are  traced 
back  to  orthodox  economics  in  England  and 
Germany.  The  premises  upon  which  Marx 
builds  are  found  in  the  classical  political  econ- 
omy. The  devotion  to  Karl  Marx  is  a  devotion 
similar  to  that  which  other  people  pay  to 
Moses,  or  Paul,  Hamilton,  or  Jefferson.  On 
the  part  of  many  it  is  thought  out  clearly,  and 
one  is  inclined  to  join  in  what  Mr.  J.  G. 
Brooks  has  said,  that  no  group  of  people  are 
thinking  so  hard  as  the  socialists;  but  their 
thought  is  limited  by  the  fact  that  they  started 

[61] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

from  orthodox  dogmas,  and  it  is  hard  for  them 
to  become  heterodox  or  progressive. 

Orthodoxy,  as  has  been  said,  is  not  merely 
religious.  It  is  likely  to  affect  people  through 
the  whole  range  of  their  thought.  As  there 
are  people  who  are  temperamentally  orthodox, 
so  there  are  people  who  are  temperamentally 
heterodox.  We,  and  they,  have  a  perfect  right 
to  say  that  our  orthodoxy  cannot  be  wholly 
wrong,  since  it  is  the  result  of  the  great  tradi- 
tions of  the  human  race.  There  must  be 
sound,  valuable,  ethical  content  in  a  religious, 
social,  political  or  economic  belief,  to  make  it 
prevail.  It  is  orthodoxy's  privilege,  "to  keep 
the  faith."  But  faith  is  a  dynamic  itself,  and 
many  orthodox  people,  though  hampered  in 
their  thinking  and  living  by  their  orthodoxy, 
are  nevertheless  more  sympathetic  with  the 
progress  of  the  day,  and  are  contributing  more 
to  it,  than  many  other  people  who  have  no  eco- 
nomic, political,  or  religious  faith  at  all. 

Still  orthodoxy  obscures  the  infinite  and  uni- 
versal. The  use  of  the  word  is  nearly  always 
arrogant,  as  though  the  appropriation  of  a 
[62] 


The  Constraint  of  Orthodoxy 

Greek  designation  for  right  thinking  in  itself 
guarantees  the  thought.  No  body  of  doctrine 
can  secure  the  consent  of  the  ages  unless  it 
include  vital  truth ;  but  the  stamp  of  orthodoxy 
is  put  upon  the  ephemeral  and  personal  vani- 
ties* as  freely  as  it  is  upon  the  eternal  verities. 
Some  religions  provide  food  for  the  dead,  an 
obviously  mundane  observance,  which  seems 
absurd  to  those  people  who  are  looking  for  a 
promised  land  in  some  definite  portion  of  the 
earth's  surface,  an  equally  finite  faith.  The 
unconcern  for  the  infinities  is  also  illustrated 
in  prayer  for  physical  needs.  There  is  a 
pretty  naivete  in  the  child's  supplication  for 
all  sorts  of  impossible  benefactions;  but  there 
is  an  egotistical  contempt  for  the  laws  of  the 
universe,  and,  "the  ways  which  are  past  finding 
out"  of  the  infinite  Power,  in  the  bland  request 
of  the  adult,  that  these  laws  be  suspended  for 
his  personal  convenience. 

The  conflict  of  orthodoxy  and  heterodoxy 
may  be  never-ending;  but  a  democratic  re- 
ligion, while  leaving  the  individual  free  in  non- 
essentials,  will  seek  to  relate  man  to  the  realm 

[68] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrai 

of  infinite  and  universal  Truth,  where  there  is 
no  speech  or  language,  where  its  voice  is  not 
heard.  Shall  we  recognize  the  voice  of  Truth 
because  it  speaks  the  patois  of  orthodoxy  or 
commands  with  stentorian  tones  of  authority? 
When  we  pass  from  the  constraint  of  ortho- 
doxy to  the  decay  of  authority  we  may  find  that 
adventitious  or  external  aid  is  unnecessary  be- 
cause the  faith  of  the  common  life  is  made 
intelligible  to  the  democratic  believer  by  a  still, 
small  voice. 


[64] 


THE  DECAY  OF  AUTHORITY; 


[65] 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  DECAY  OF  AUTHORITY 

THE  decay  of  authority  is  not  complete. 
Authority  is  still  tenacious  of  its  power, 
and  it  is  not  desirable  that  it  should  ut- 
terly decay.  As  Emerson  said,  "The  creeds 
into  which  we  were  initiated  in  childhood  and 
youth  no  longer  hold  their  place  in  the  minds 
of  thoughtful  men,  but  they  are  not  nothing 
to  us,  and  we  hate  to  have  them  treated  with 
contempt."  We  are  only  passing  from  he- 
reditary, traditional  authority  to  spontaneous, 
individual  and  social  authority;  the  decay  is 
the  decay  of  irresponsible,  injudicious  and  ir- 
rational authority. 

John  Ruskin  has  a  memorable  passage  in 

which  he  observes  the  difference  between  a 

faithful  dog  and  a  house-fly.     He  is  writing 

and  his  dog  is  impatient  to  take  a  walk,  but 

[67] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

is  compelled  to  tarry  until  his  master  has  fin- 
ished. The  dog  is  told  to  wait  and  he  waits 
obediently.  Meanwhile,  a  common  house-fly 
buzzes  with  impunity  about  the  poet's  head 
and  lights  impudently  upon  the  nose  of  the 
dog,  lawless,  unrestrained.  Ruskin  says  that 
this  is  the  idea  of  liberty  which  some  people 
hold  before  themselves;  to  do  just  what  they 
please.  Surely  the  house  dog,  subject  to  obe- 
dience, is  superior  to  the  house-fly,  which 
knows  no  law. 

Obedience  to  a  chosen  and  worthy  authority 
is  not  the  same,  however,  as  blind  obedience, 
devoid  of  reason.  Kate  Douglas  Wiggin  has 
characterized  the  boy  who  stood  upon  the  burn- 
ing deck  as  an  "inspired  idiot,"  human  author- 
ity triumphing  over  natural  law.  He  had 
learned  self-sacrifice,  but  not  self -direction.  It 
has  been  one  of  the  contradictory  faults  of 
our  growing  democracy  that  we  have  been  slow 
to  recognize  that,  while  blind  obedience  is  de- 
structive of  character,  intelligent  obedience 
may  be  up-building  and  helpful.  The  en- 
deavor to  break  ancient  bonds  and  establish 
[68] 


The  Decay  of  "Authority 


new  laws  involves  danger.  In  discussing  the 
decay  of  authority  it  is  necessary  to  recognize 
that,  rid  of  old  fetters,  we  must  still  respect 
new  bonds;  if  the  old  testament  is  broken,  we 
are  under  the  spell  of  new  gospels. 

It  is  logical  to  note  first  the  decay  of  per- 
sonal authority,  which  is  manifest  in  the  case 
of  the  decline  of  parental  control,  especially 
that  of  the  father.  It  has  progressed  so  far 
in  America  that  we  may  be  inclined  to  give  a 
new  interpretation  to  the  saying  "The  child 
is  father  of  the  man,"  since  there  is  open  re- 
bellion against  the  impertinence  of  the  Amer- 
ican child.  This  assists  us  in  understanding 
the  decline  of  parental  authority.  There  can 
be  no  reverence  unless  there  are  objects  worthy 
to  be  revered.  The  flippancy  of  the  Amer- 
ican adult  would  naturally  rob  him  of  the  re- 
spect once  enforced  by  a  conventional  dig- 
nity. 

There  has  also  been,  throughout  the  last  cen- 
tury, frequent  interference  by  the  state  with 
the  power  of  the  parent.  With  the  develop- 
ment of  the  English  factory  system,  the  abso- 

[69] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

lute  control  of  the  child's  life  began  to  reveal 
itself  as  inhuman  and  undesirable.  In  spite 
of  the  exploitation  of  children  by  their  par- 
ents, it  took  many  years  to  bring  about  even 
temperate  legislation,  because  of  the  dread 
that  in  interfering  with  old  standards,  they 
would  "flee  to  ills  they  knew  not  of."  So 
noble  a  humanitarian  as  John  Bright  objected 
to  the  passage  of  the  factory  laws,  limiting  the 
age  of  children  and  the  hours  of  child  labor  in 
the  factories,  because  this  would  interfere  with 
the  moral  responsibility  of  the  fathers,  and  the 
paternalism  of  the  state  might  thereby  sup- 
plant parental  affection.  But  in  the  course  of 
the  century,  we  have  been  compelled  to  hedge 
about  that  father,  to  impress  upon  him  his  du- 
ties, to  command  and  compel  him  to  care  for 
the  child  for  whose  protection  his  love  has 
proved  insufficient. 

A  noticeable  decline  is  also  witnessed  in  the 
authority  of  the  husband  over  the  wife.  Most 
people  are  still  married  by  the  old  formula  in 
which  the  wife  promises  to  love,  honor  and 
obey;  but  an  increasing  number  use  the  words 
[70] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


as  they  do  those  of  their  creeds,  with  a  reser- 
vation; while  those  are  multiplying  who  are 
willing  to  place  the  sexes  on  a  basis  of  equal 
authority.  If  there  must  be  authority  in  the 
house,  it  is  said,  let  it  be  a  matter  of  function, 
not  to  be  determined  by  sex  alone,  but  with 
reference  to  all  the  interests  of  the  home.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  look  about,  however,  to 
find  that  this  loss  of  authority  by  the  husband 
has  plunged  us  into  a  maelstrom  of  moral  and 
social  problems,  not  because  we  ought  to  go 
back  to  recognizing  the  old  authority  of  the 
"head  of  the  house,"  but  because  the  newer 
democratic  system  is  still  undeveloped. 

A  similar  decline  is  to  be  observed  in  the 
authority  of  the  employer,  not  merely  in  the 
older  patriarchal  sense,  but  in  the  larger  con- 
ception of  the  representative  of  society.  In 
the  old  industrial  relations,  the  employer  had 
absolute  responsibility  for  the  life  of  his  em- 
ployee, and  with  that  went  a  corresponding 
authority.  The  evolution  of  industry  has 
given  the  employer  a  new  supremacy,  but  it 
is  not  personal,  as  it  was  in  the  older  systems. 

[H] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

In  all  of  these  cases,  of  father,  husband,  or 
employer,  the  decline  of  personal  authority 
has  exhibited  a  tendency  from  the  spiritual 
to  the  pecuniary  relationship.  At  first  thought 
this  is  discouraging  to  all  who  are  trying  to 
enlarge  the  spiritual  bounds  of  society;  but  it 
must  be  conceded  that  the  drift  is,  for  the  most 
part,  wholesome.  The  pecuniary  control  of 
the  master  of  the  purse  over  children  and  wife, 
or  the  cash  relation  between  employer  and  em- 
ployed, gives  a  freedom  to  the  individuality 
of  the  dependent  which  is  not  possible  when 
one  personality  is  authoritatively  imposed  up- 
on another.  It  is  only  through  the  prelim- 
inary substitution  of  the  pecuniary  for  the 
personal  dominance  that  we  can  hope  to  reach 
eventual  emancipation. 

The  weakening  of  economic  authority  has 
passed  through  certain  conspicuous  historic 
stages.  In  the  old  feudal  relationship  there 
was  a  condition  or  status,  in  many  ways  satis- 
factory to  the  people  who,  accustomed  to  its 
restraint,  lived  under  it  with  little  friction.  To 
large  communities  for  centuries  it  seemed  de- 
[72] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


sirable,  and  the  breaking  with  it  brought  dis- 
aster. The  lords  under  the  feudal  system  felt 
responsibility  and  exercised  it  in  a  way  the 
employer  of  labor  to-day  does  not  and  cannot 
think  of  doing.  Loyalty  and  chivalry  in  in- 
dustry have  passed;  but  they  are  regretted  only 
by  those  who  rejoice  in  the  power  of  domina- 
tion. As  this  authority  was  broken,  a  transi- 
tional domestic  system  simply  intensified  the 
personal  relation.  The  employer  and  the  em- 
ployee worked  side  by  side,  frequently  lived 
under  the  same  roof,  and  the  workman  often 
married  into  the  employer's  family.  From  the 
standpoint  of  productivity,  it  was  an  idyllic 
relationship;  but  there  was  not  the  power  of 
social,  intellectual,  and  moral  growth  which  is 
in  the  system  which  succeeded  it. 

At  first  glance  it  seems  like  a  distinct  retro- 
gression to  pass  on  to  the  capitalistic  organiza- 
tion of  society,  where  men  are  dealt  with  by 
the  mass,  in  contrast  with  the  old,  simple,  in- 
dividual relationship.  However,  it  is  coming 
to  be  seen,  that,  in  spite  of  the  evils  of  the 
capitalistic  system,  with  its  loss  of  personality 
[73] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

and  individual  productivity,  society  secures  a 
greater  freedom  and  the  foundation  of  a 
larger  life  than  could  have  been  known  under 
the  domestic  or  any  other  personal  regime. 
This  is  observed  most  conspicuously  if  one 
contrast  the  new  industries  with  the  survivals 
of  the  old,  domestic  service  or  the  sweating 
system.  Who  would  prefer  the  existence  of 
the  sweat-shop  slave,  or  domestic  servant,  to 
that  of  the  independent  worker  in  the  factory, 
(under  the  supervision  of  the  state?  Incom- 
plete as  is  factory  organization,  its  competi- 
tion threatens  the  extinction  of  those  belated 
industries. 

One  must  not  mourn  over  the  death  of  the 
old  system,  yet  in  the  new  industrial  order,  it 
is  perfectly  appalling  to  face  the  power  which 
resides  in  the  hands  of  a  few.  The  report  of 
the  explosion  in  an  Alabama  mine,  in  which 
sixty  men  were  killed,  naively  stated  that  the 
employers  had  done  everything  they  could  to 
make  the  working  men  contented,  and  that  the 
latter  were  all  non-union  men.  In  a  state 
where  legislation  is  difficult  because  of  the 
[74] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


recent  rise  from  the  status  of  primitive  in- 
dustry, and  where  the  employers  are  organ- 
ized, but  the  working  men  are  not,  explosions, 
physical  and  otherwise,  are  inevitable.  Yet 
with  the  fearful  multiplication  of  such  in- 
stances we  are  undaunted,  for  we  see  that  in 
the  present  system  there  are  possibilities  not 
inherent  in  the  earlier  forms  of  industry.  We 
have  passed  from  status  to  contract;  we  shall 
move  on  to  cooperation;  at  first,  collective 
bargaining,  and  then  collectivism.  The  transi- 
tion has  been  made  from  personal  to  pecuni- 
ary authority ;  it  will  go  on  to  authority  gained 
by  service,  in  fulfilment  of  the  great  moral 
truth  "he  who  would  be  chief  among  you,  let 
him  be  the  servant  of  all." 

All  this  is  seen  more  clearly  if  we  turn  from 
the  decay  of  economic  to  the  decline  of  po- 
litical authority.  Under  the  feudal  system 
the  great  mass  of  people  were  deprived  of 
their  personal  liberty.  They  lived  and  died  in 
one  place,  in  the  service  of  the  feudal  lord. 
With  the  first  breaking  away  from  this  tyr- 
anny, the  men  who  went  to  the  towns  risked 
[75] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

their  lives,  because  they  lost  all  claim  on  the 
baron  by  disregarding  the  only  responsible 
authority.  Nevertheless,  they  went  to  the 
city,  taking  their  lives  in  their  hands,  and  there 
they  organized  guilds  for  their  common  pro- 
tection. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  elaborate  the  story  of 
the  downfall  of  feudalism.  The  king  saw  the 
possibility  of  building  up  in  the  cities  a  power 
that  would  make  him  independent  of  the  feu- 
dal lords.  He  could  never  have  developed  the 
power  of  the  crown  against  the  lords  without 
the  support  of  the  cities.  It  was  the  alle- 
giance of  the  city  masses  which  strengthened 
royalty  and  annihilated  the  power  of  the  bar- 
ons ;  more  than  that,  it  was  the  inevitable  prec- 
edent of  the  coming  events.  There  could  have 
been  no  democracy  without  this  interregnum 
of  the  king.  The  divided  people  were  incapa- 
ble of  resisting  the  power  of  the  barons;  the 
united  people  developed  nationalism,  and  the 
king  was  compelled  to  concede  to  them  Jhe 
rudiments  of  representative  government. 

Representative  government,  as  thus  far  de- 
[76] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


veloped,  is  as  unsatisfactory  as  many  people 
think  the  evolution  of  organized  industry  will 
be.  "The  never-ending  audacity  of  elected 
persons"  is  the  inevitable  result  of  unrestrained 
representation  in  industry  or  politics.  One 
impression  we  are  receiving  in  this  slow  proc- 
ess of  political  evolution,  is  that  divided  au- 
thority does  not  mean  independence.  The 
possession  of  the  suffrage  for  the  choice  of  so- 
called  representatives  does  not  guarantee  de- 
mocracy. The  authority  is,  as  yet,  neither  with 
the  people,  nor  with  the  representatives.  The 
hereditary  power  of  the  latter  is  gone ;  but  the 
voice  of  the  former  is  still  uncertain.  Tradi- 
tional authority  has  been  supplanted  by  a  par- 
tisan, irregular,  indirect  authority,  which 
makes  us  almost  incapable  of  self-government. 
One  of  the  problems  of  democracy  is  to  get 
the  things  which  require  attention  directly  and 
simply  before  the  people's  minds,  so  that  they 
will  exercise  the  authority  belonging  to  them. 
There  is  little  choice  between  a  hereditary  ruler 
and  a  political  boss;  government  ex  cathedra 
must  not  be  mistaken  for  vox  populi. 
[77] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Perhaps  better  service  may  be  secured 
through  good  citizenship  out  of  a  double  coun- 
cil, commissions,  vetoes  and  all  our  illusory 
system  of  checks,  than  bad  citizens  could  get 
out  of  simple,  direct  democracy;  but  it  is  al- 
together improbable  in  these  great  cities  which 
have  suffered  so  long  from  divided  authority 
that  they  will  ever  get  good  administration  un- 
til their  attention  is  fixed  on  the  single  coun- 
cil, elected  at  large  by  direct  nomination,  made 
fully  responsible,  and  controlled  by  the  refer- 
endum and  initiative.  What  is  true  of  local 
government  is  equally  true  of  state  and  federal 
administration.  Representative  government  is 
a  transitory,  divided  authority  between  the  un- 
questioned hereditary  power  of  feudalism  and 
the  independent  intelligence  of  democracy! 

Personal,  economic,  political  authority, — 
each  is  being  shorn  of  its  traditional  power; 
and  social  authority  must  go  the  same  way. 
None  of  these  protests  inspires  more  regret 
than  the  decline  of  the  prestige  of  the  family. 
There  is  a  great  charm  about  the  security  of 
position  of  the  good  old  families  in  the  more 
[78] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


ancient  towns.  There  is  a  fine,  romantic  sen- 
timent about  noblesse  oblige.  There  is  a  loss 
of  delicacy  and  refinement  with  the  encroach- 
ments of  commercialism,  but  like  other  ancient 
institutions  of  society,  the  old  family  can  only 
be  said  to  average  up  well.  It  produces  its 
share,  and  more,  of  black  sheep;  it  inspires 
motives  as  unworthy  as  the  most  sordid  pur- 
suit of  position  through  pelf.  The  genealog- 
ical fakers  fatten  on  family  ambitions,  and 
"Revolutionary"  sons  and  daughters  attempt 
to  conceal  their  ancestral  egotism  under  a 
veneer  of  patriotism.  A  chorus  of  myths, 
ghosts  and  skeletons  attends  the  paeans  which 
are  chanted  south  of  Market  street  in  Philadel- 
phia and  in  the  Back  Bay  of  Boston. 

The  claim  that  family  connection  can  re- 
store the  lost  prestige  of  the  vicious  is  a  se- 
rious indictment.  The  finished  product  of  a 
good  family  needs  no  certificated  tree;  his 
measure  is  merit,  not  pedigree.  In  the  face 
of  physiological  decay  and  degeneration,  it 
seems  absurd  that  the  dominance  of  family 
should  persist.  Without  question  it  gives  the 

[79] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

opportunity  for  the  culture  and  refinement  of 
children,  yet  barrenness  is  the  fate  of  its  ex- 
clusiveness. 

It  is  perfectly  true  that  the  individual  of 
wealth  cannot  break  at  once  into  the  best  so- 
ciety; but  he  has  only  to  be  patient.  He  or 
his  children  will  enter  and  his  progeny  will  be 
accredited  with  the  tradition  of  family.  In- 
evitably family  must  buy  its  title  to  continue 
its  sway.  The  rule  of  wealth  is  repugnant  to 
the  well-born  and  the  cultured;  but  it  is  log- 
ical. Its  aristocracy  is  no  more  spurious  than 
that  of  birth,  and,  increasingly,  it  will  be 
based  on  merit.  The  great  economic  interests 
will  not  down;  the  control  of  the  future  be- 
longs to  them;  but  it  is  possible  that,  instead 
of  allowing  them  to  materialize  society,  so- 
ciety may  spiritualize  them. 

The  one  persistent  influence  which  refuses 
to  yield  to  economic  dominance  is  that  of  race ; 
the  decay  of  its  authority  is  less  apparent. 
It  is  true  that  the  commerce  between  nations 
indicates  the  breaking  down  of  race  distinc- 
tions. People  of  a  different  tongue  are  not 
[80] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


so  despised  by  the  English  speaking  world 
as  they  were;  but  the  recrudescence  of  race 
antipathy,  as  manifested  between  the  so- 
called  superior  and  inferior  races,  is  one  of 
the  most  discouraging  contradictions  of  our 
vaunted  democracy.  The  European  white 
man — and  especially  the  English  speaking 
white  man — is  dominant  not  only  in  the  Oc- 
cident, but  in  much  of  the  Orient.  We  are 
told  that  the  white  man  must  rule,  whether  he 
rules  according  to  the  modern  ideal,  or  ac- 
cording to  ancient  or  mediaeval  principles. 
It  is  even  claimed  in  Great  Britain  that  a  re- 
turn to  savage  methods  of  warfare,  is  essen- 
tial in  dealing  with  the  primitive  people  of 
Africa. 

It  is  time  to  remember  that  the  conquest  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  (whatever  that  is)  in  Great 
Britain,  the  United  States,  and  Australasia, 
where  his  triumph  has  been  most  spectacular, 
is  not  by  authority,  but  by  assimilation.  The 
English  race  is  a  peculiarly  mixed  race,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  constant  infusion  from  its  still 
independent  allies,  the  Scottish,  the  Welsh,  and 

[81] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

the  Irish.  The  American  is  a  more  recent 
conglomerate  of  various  elements,  but  in  no 
conceivable  sense  Anglo-Saxon.  Yet  the  so- 
called  Anglo-Saxon  institutions,  which  con- 
trol the  most  important  part  of  the  world, 
owe  their  strength  to  the  race  which  adminis- 
ters them.  The  assimilation  of  kindred  races 
has  been  so  successful,  and  amalgamation  of 
widely  diverse  races,  either  by  blood  or  suf- 
frage, is  so  promising  in  Hawaii  and  New 
Zealand,  that  the  dispassionate  observer  must 
cease  to  be  dogmatic  as  to  the  racial  rule  of 
the  future.  The  one  assured  conclusion  seems 
to  be  that  race  dominion  whether  by  control 
or  assimilation,  will  not  soon  succumb  to  pe- 
cuniary authority.  Yet  even  here,  economic 
opportunity  is  the  safest  corrective  of  racial 
antagonism,  and  the  decline  of  race  exploita- 
tion will  accompany  scientific,  economic  ad- 
ministration. 

The  decay  of  the  authority  of  intellect  one 

is  still  more  reluctant  to  admit;  indeed,  it  is 

claimed   that   all    other    forms    of   authority 

should  bow  before  intelligence.     Learning  is 

[82] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


worthy  of  all  respect;  the  rule  of  the  philos- 
ophers is  to  be  desired;  but  there  are  just  the 
same  fictitious  claims  made  in  its  behalf  as 
are  found  in  the  economic  and  political  world. 
The  merited  advantage,  due  to  the  ability  to 
read  and  write,  we  have  largely  eliminated  by 
popular  education,  but  the  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  most  and  the  least  learned  is  so  con- 
spicuous as  to  constitute  a  form  of  privilege 
akin  to  that  of  wealth  or  race.  The  moment 
privilege  loosens  its  grip  on  one  thing,  it  takes 
hold  of  another.  To  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given,  is  a  law  of  nature  as  well  as  of  scrip- 
ture. It  is  as  easy  to  accumulate  advantage 
on  the  basis  of  a  liberal  education  as  it  is  to 
multiply  riches  when  one  has  a  start  over  one's 
competitors. 

It  is  an  intellectual  ingrate  who,  having  se- 
cured some  accidental  advantage  over  his  fel- 
lows by  superior  culture,  attempts  to  brow- 
beat them  into  permanent  subjection  on  the 
ground  that  they  are  incapable  of  his  attain- 
ments. One  of  the  ablest  captains  of  indus- 
try, and  contemporary  lawyers  (who  has  re- 

[83] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

habilitated  a  discredited  corporation),  at  the 
opening  of  a  public  high  school  delivered  an 
address,  founded  exclusively  on  eighteenth 
century  thought,  the  atmosphere  in  which  the 
cultured  like  to  keep  the  uncultured.  His 
chief  authority  was  Adam  Smith  whose 
"Wealth  of  Nations,"  written  in  1776,  was 
not  only  an  epoch-making  work,  but  bears  a 
peculiar  aroma  of  sanctity  by  association  with 
the  historic  year  in  which  it  appeared.  There 
was  held  up  to  the  youth  of  this  people's  col- 
lege, and  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  in 
general  (for  the  papers  have  given  publicity 
to  the  address)  the  philosophy,  politics,  and 
educational  ideals  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

This  man,  whose  industrial  activities  have 
abundantly  qualified  him  for  a  twentieth  cen- 
tury position,  because  of  the  constant  use  of 
twentieth  century  processes  and  twentieth  cen- 
tury science,  is  nevertheless  content  with  and 
offers  deliberately,  or  guilelessly,  to  the  youth 
of  to-day  a  philosophy  more  than  a  hundred 
years  out  of  date.  The  address  concluded 
with  the  platitude  "A  little  knowledge  is  a 
[84] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


dangerous  thing."  Innocent  of  the  emphasis 
which  his  own  words  gave  to  this  doctrine,  the 
speaker  blandly  warned  the  patrons  of  this 
great  public  school  that  they  must  be  content 
with  their  humble  positions  and  not  aspire  to 
heights  of  culture.  Such  is  the  arrogance  of 
the  intellectually  privileged.  The  intellect 
will  increasingly  exercise  authority,  but  with 
the  growth  of  democratic  culture,  the  author- 
ity of  the  intellectuals  will  decay. 

The  decay  of  authority  is  nowhere  so  man- 
ifest as  in  the  religious  world.  Are  people 
becoming  less  religious,  or  may  we  hope  to  be 
passing,  as  Sabatier  says,  from  the  religions 
of  authority  to  the  religion  of  the  spirit;  cer- 
tainly authority  is  decadent.  It  is  possible  to 
illustrate  this  in  the  history  of  religion,  from 
the  most  primitive  superstitions  to  the  refine- 
ments of  the  great  monotheistic  faiths.  It 
will  serve  our  purpose,  however,  to  draw  our 
illustrations  from  Christianity  alone.  Theol- 
ogy is  always  interpreted  by  the  times.  The 
personal  Christianity  of  Palestine,  expressed 
in  the  lives  of  those  faithful  followers  of 

[85] 


TTie  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Jesus,  who  taking  him  literally,  both  in  his 
economic  and  spiritual  teachings,  founded  a 
communistic  colony,  succumbed  to  the  insti- 
tutional Christianity  of  Rome.  Whatever 
may  have  been  lost  in  intensity  by  the  surren- 
der of  an  ardent,  personal  faith,  guiding 
every  phase  of  conduct,  Christianity  doubtless 
spread  through  the  world  by  capturing  the 
imperial  influence  of  Rome. 

The  church  of  the  middle  ages  felt  the  in- 
fluence of  the  great  sense  of  social  responsibil- 
ity in  feudalism,  then  of  the  growing  spirit 
of  democracy,  which  was  incorporated  in 
guilds  and  towns,  and  yielded  finally  to  the 
commercialism  which  followed  the  discovery 
of  America.  Theology  and  the  church  have 
been  the  creatures  of  the  time,  not  the  creators. 
Authority  has  been  maintained  by  conformity 
to  the  ruling  institutions,  whether  in  politics 
or  industry. 

The  authority  of  theology  received  a  new 
accession  of  power  with  the  decline  of  eccle- 
siasticism  at  the  time  of  the  Protestant  Refor- 
mation. The  present  reaction  against  the 
[86] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


Reformation  enables  us  to  see  it  in  a  little 
clearer  perspective.  The  right  of  private 
judgment  and  liberty  to  read  the  Bible  are  in- 
estimable gains,  but  we  are  beginning  to  see 
the  price  at  which  they  were  bought.  Coin- 
cident with  the  Reformation  was  the  circula- 
tion of  books  printed  with  movable  types,  and 
the  popular  ability  to  read.  In  consequence, 
not  only  was  "the  Book"  substituted  for  the 
church  as  the  foundation  for  authority,  but 
authority  in  general  began  to  be  drawn  from 
books.  The  effect  of  the  clear,  black  print 
on  the  white  page  is  so  much  simpler  and  more 
vivid  than  other  impressions  for  most  people, 
that  whether  they  derive  their  opinion  from 
the  sacred  scriptures,  secular  books,  or  the 
newspaper,  the  authority  of  the  printed  page 
transcends,  for  those  who  read,  all  other  au- 
thority. Even  people  who  pride  themselves 
on  their  independent  judgment  will  call  up 
from  the  recesses  of  their  minds  some  impres- 
sion which,  however  unauthoritative,  remains 
indelible  because  of  having  been  seen  in  print. 
When  to  this  authority  of  the  book  is  added 
[87] 


The  'Religion  of  a  Democrat 

the  dogma,  which  naturally  grew  in  the  ill- 
tutored  minds  of  the  post-Reformation  popu- 
lation, of  the  infallibility  of  the  sacred  writ- 
ings (even  when  translated  into  the  vernacu- 
lar), there  developed  an  authority  as  com- 
manding as  that  of  the  church,  but  less 
successful  because  of  the  diversity  of  inter- 
pretation, due  to  the  right  of  private  judg- 
ment. It  was  inevitable  that  the  zeal  of  those, 
who  found  divine  sanction  for  their  personal 
opinions,  should  burn  heretics.  It  is  equally 
inevitable  that  this  privilege  of  private  inves- 
tigation should  lead  ultimately  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  authority  of  both  Church  and 
Book. 

With  the  progress  of  thought  and  morality, 
it  came  to  pass  that  some  of  the  inhuman  doc- 
trines of  the  scripture  and  the  theologians  con- 
flicted with  the  humaner  sentiments  of  the 
great  ethical  teachers  and  the  people.  The 
humanistic  movements  which  prompted  men 
to  more  just  living  were  seldom  sanctioned  by 
the  church,  yet  exercised  a  profound  influence 
on  theology.  The  popular  effect  of  these 
[88] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


was  palpable  in  the  growing  disbelief  in  hell 
during  the  nineteenth  century.  The  scriptural 
doctrine  of  hell  is  incompatible  with  human- 
itarianism.  The  idea  that  one  could  commit 
any  offense  in  the  brief  span  of  human  life 
which  would  warrant  eternal  torment,  was  too 
immoral  for  the  enlightenment  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  The  church  was  not  only  un- 
able to  stem  the  tide  of  disbelief  in  hell,  but 
seemed  to  acquiesce  in  the  idea  which  Carlyle 
castigated,  that  not  content  to  be  without  a  hell, 
the  English  people  had  devised  "the  hell  of 
not  making  money."  The  social  doctrine  of 
the  twentieth  century  promises  to  force  upon 
the  church  an  even  superior  hell,  which  Charles 
Ferguson  calls  "the  hell  of  not  making  good." 
The  destructive  attacks  of  the  unsympa- 
thetic have  been  reenforced  by  the  reverent 
investigations  of  theologians.  The  higher 
criticism  of  the  bible  which  was  used  so  ef- 
fectively by  Spinoza  and  other  early  writers, 
became  both  more  scientific  and  more  popular 
in  the  nineteenth  century.  Higher  criticism 
is  nothing  more  than  reading  between  the  lines. 

[89] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

It  has  received  most  valuable  contributions 
from  profound  students  of  Semitic  and  clas- 
sical languages,  who  have  investigated  the 
sources  of  the  scriptural  canon,  but  it  can  be 
used  as  effectively  by  the  reader  of  the  trans- 
lated bible,  who  employs  the  common  sense 
method  of  Tolstoy.  To  the  believer  in  the  in- 
spiration of  the  scriptures  it  may  be  a  matter 
of  great  moment  whether  Moses  wrote  the 
Pentateuch,  or  David  wrote  the  Psalms,  or 
John  the  gospel,  which  bears  his  name;  to  the 
one  who  knows  that  truth  is  truth,  and  only 
truth  because  it  is  truth,  it  is  a  matter  of  no 
moment  who  wrote  any  scriptural  document. 
This  is  increasingly  the  belief  of  the  en- 
lightened, developing  the  most  valuable  force 
witnessed  in  Christendom, — the  measure  of 
the  sacred  by  its  moral  value. 

Modern  investigations  furnish  three  evi- 
dences which  are  profoundly  influential:  com- 
parative religion,  evolution,  and  the  changed 
attitude  regarding  the  personality  and  cosmic 
service  of  Jesus.  The  study  of  comparative 
religion  reveals  the  fact  that  the  great  religions 
[90] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


of  the  world  are  very  similar  in  their  origin, 
their  fundamental  teaching,  and  their  influ- 
ence. Accompanied  by  an  appreciation  of  the 
teachings  of  evolution,  it  is  seen  that  these 
are  all  growths  from  similar  or  common  inspi- 
rations ;  that  if  the  religion  of  the  future  is  to 
be  Christianity,  it  will  have  to  be  a  modified 
Christianity;  that  the  evolution,  for  example, 
of  Judaism  and  Christianity  are  so  similar  as 
to  be  nearly  identical;  and  that  the  whole  his- 
tory of  the  world  allots  such  a  small  fragment 
of  time  to  Christian  dogma  and  its  institutions 
that  our  sublime  theological  egotism  must  be 
supplanted  by  a  pro  founder  and  more  in- 
spired faith  in  humanity  and  the  power  which 
makes  for  righteousness. 

We  can  illustrate  the  significance  of  the 
decay  of  authority  by  a  very  brief  considera- 
tion of  the  personality  of  Jesus,  on  whom  are 
f  ocussed  the  most  important  of  the  theological 
controversies.  Many  orthodox  people  accept 
the  results  of  criticism  with  regard  to  the  Old 
Testament,  but  are  not  yet  ready  to  apply  the 
same  standards  to  the  New  Testament.  Yet 
[91J 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

people  of  all  degrees  of  theological  conserva- 
tism and  liberalism  have  had  their  views  modi- 
fled  regarding  Jesus,  and,  consequently,  about 
the  church  and  religion.  An  examination  of 
the  historic  competition  between  the  authority 
of  Jesus  and  that  of  other  characters  will  help 
us  most  briefly  to  comprehend  this  changed 
attitude. 

There  was  a  conflict  in  Palestine  between 
the  various  schools  of  rabbis,  and  in  the  times 
of  Jesus  the  most  spiritual  leader  was  Hillel. 
The  great  rabbi  had  his  deserved  following  as 
did  the  humble  carpenter.  Hillel's  teachings 
and  those  of  Jesus  were  very  similar;  but  the 
simplicity  and  democracy  of  Jesus,  and  his 
wondrous  personality  and  martyrdom,  enabled 
his  influence  to  dominate,  and  led  to  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Christian  church.  Then 
followed  the  development  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic church,  with  its  militant  power,  and  in  the 
course  of  time  the  church  evolved  the  dogma 
of  the  divinity  of  Jesus. 

When  Jesus  became  God,  there  arose  the 
difficulty  which  has  always  been  felt  by  the 
[92] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


multitude,  to  whom  the  mystical  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity  is  inevitably  a  form  of  polytheism. 
This  appealing  human  character  was  removed 
by  the  theologians  so  far  from  humanity  as 
to  cease  to  be  an  adequate  medium  of  ap- 
proach to  the  Father,  and  there  was  naturally 
developed  the  intermediatory  function  of 
Mary,  who,  although  "Mother  of  God,"  was 
human  and  approachable.  Mary  not  only 
proved  to  be  a  satisfactory  mediator,  but  the 
regard  for  her  undoubtedly  had  a  wholesome 
effect  in  raising  the  estimate  of  womanhood 
and  motherhood.  Yet  it  became  repugnant 
to  the  sterner  and  more  precise  theologians  of 
the  Reformation,  and  in  the  reaction  which 
followed  we  find  stress  laid  upon  the  theology 
of  Paul,  which  restored  Jesus  to  his  mediatory 
position  and  made  him  seem  less  remote  by 
emphasizing  the  beliefs  through  which  he  could 
be  approached. 

The  growth  of  free,  scientific  investigation 

in  the  nineteenth  century  led  to  the  untram- 

meled    and    revolutionary    investigations    of 

Strauss  and  Baur,  who  found  no  sanction  for 

[93] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

the  inspiration  of  the  scriptures,  and  so  lit- 
tle confirmation  in  secular  history  of  the  events 
recorded  in  the  scriptures  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  believe  that  the  whole  story  of  Jesus 
was  a  myth.  It  lost  for  them  none  of  its 
ethical  significance;  it  was  a  beautiful  picture 
of  the  ideal  life;  but  it  had  no  historical  com- 
plement. The  benefit  of  these  destructive 
teachings  was  soon  felt  in  the  renewed  investi- 
gations into  the  sources  of  the  life  of  Jesus, 
involving  the  application  of  the  ripest  scholar- 
ship of  men  of  all  views,  and  the  restoration 
of  Jesus  to  his  place  in  history. 

Meanwhile,  especially  in  America,  there  was 
a  wholesome  influence  being  exercised  by  the 
division  between  the  Unitarian  and  Trinitarian 
Congregationalists.  The  historic  Jesus  was 
opposed  to  the  prophetic  Messiah.  From  the 
historic  Jesus  (the  Jesus  of  the  gospels,  not 
of  the  theologians),  came  a  vast  ethical  in- 
fluence, far  more  powerful  than  that  of  the 
Messianic  conception  of  Jesus.  The  life  of 
Jesus  became  more  important  than  his  death. 
A  more  popular  interpretation  of  the  gos- 
[94] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


pels,  unwilling  to  surrender  the  belief  in  the 
divinity  of  Christ,  but  examining  with  a  free 
hand  the  authority  of  scriptures,  is  known  as 
liberal  orthodoxy.  Recognizing  that  there  is 
only  one  authoritative  original  document  back 
of  the  gospels  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke, 
and  finding  the  gospel  of  John,  while  very 
beautiful,  neither  authoritative  nor  authentic, 
they  still  cling  to  the  Trinitarian  conception, 
based,  however,  on  careful,  scientific  investi- 
gation. 

The  net  result  of  these  inquiries  and  their 
spiritual  consequence  is  an  emphasis  on  the 
character  of  Jesus  and  his  ethical  teachings, 
unknown  to  the  complacent  theologians  and 
their  blind  followers,  who  accept  unquestion- 
ingly  the  old  theology,  without  demanding  its 
reflection  in  life.  We  cannot  afford  to  lose 
the  vividness  and  the  uplift  of  the  wonderful 
character  of  Jesus,  and,  happily,  he  is  brought 
nearer  to  the  multitude  by  the  reverent  but 
scientific  investigations  and  teachings  of  to- 
day than  by  the  authoritative  dictum  of  earlier, 
unlettered  theologians,  whose  concern  was  for 

[95] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

church  and  dogma  more  than  for  the  permea- 
tion of  society  with  Christian  ethics.1  The 
authority  of  the  old  theology,  of  the  church, 
of  the  Christ  cult  (derived  by  Luther  and 
Calvin  from  Paul),  has  waned;  but  the  moral 
power  of  the  unsullied  life  of  Jesus  is  an  in- 
creasing vital  force. 

The  decay  of  personal,  economic,  political, 
social,  intellectual,  and  religious  authority 
is  ominous.  There  is  the  inevitable  danger  of 
apathy,  rash  scepticism,  or  cynicism.  The 
struggle  of  the  privileged  to  maintain  their 
prerogatives  on  tottering  foundations  leads 
the  superficial  thinker  to  attack  men  of  straw. 
When  authority  is  identified  with  injustice, 
tyranny,  hypocrisy  and  superstition,  the  logical 
protest  is  anarchy.  The  new  authority  must 
be  that  of  the  spirit, — the  spirituality  of  com- 
radeship, of  cooperation,  of  universal  suffrage 
and  direct  legislation,  of  democratic  culture 


1  Such  a  book  as  Professor  Nathaniel  Schmidt's  "  The 
Prophet  of  Nazareth"  is  typical  of  the  way  in  which  the 
most  critical  modern  research  may  be  combined  with  a  rarely 
beautiful  and  inspiring  spiritual  picture. 

[96] 


The  Decay  of  Authority 


and  democratic  religion.  "We  are  delivered 
from  the  law,  that  being  dead  wherein  we 
were  held;  that  we  should  serve  in  newness 
of  spirit,  not  in  the  oldness  of  the  letter." 
"The  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit  giveth  life." 
Upon  this  living  law  will  be  built  the  church 
of  democracy. 


[97] 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH 


[99] 


EELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH 

THE  unconstrained  faith  which  forgets 
orthodoxy  in  its  moral  enthusiasm,  which 
finds  authority  not  above  and  beyond, 
but  in  and  about  it,  will  not  identify  demo- 
cratic religion  with  the  church  of  yesterday  and 
to-day.  The  measure  of  both  religion  and  mor- 
ality is  social  efficiency.  A  distinguished 
clergyman  said  recently  in  a  sermon  that 
gained  some  publicity, — "While  this  is  not 
the  most  wicked  age, — while,  in  fact,  it  is  the 
most  moral  age, — it  is  without  doubt  the  most 
godless  age."  Is  not  the  opposite  true,  that 
this  is  a  godly  but  immoral  age?  There  is 
little  decline  in  the  belief  in  God,  but  this  be- 
lief, like  many  others,  has  lost  its  dynamic 
power.  It  is  surely  a  matter  of  greater  con- 
cern that  a  belief  in  God  can  be  associated 
[101] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

with  immorality,  than  that  morality  is  possible 
to  the  godless. 

The  unhappy  reconciliation  of  theological 
belief  and  immorality  is  illustrated  by  the  beau- 
tiful sculptured  frieze  over  the  door  of  the 
Royal  Exchange  in  London,  bearing  this  leg- 
end: "The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  ful- 
ness thereof."  One  can  understand  the  sen- 
sation which  we  should  have  at  seeing  that 
declaration  above  the  door  of  our  Stock  Ex- 
change or  Board  of  Trade;  but  they  have  be- 
come so  accustomed  to  it  in  London  that  they 
are  not  shocked  at  the  incongruity  between 
the  practice  and  the  faith.  Perhaps  an  even 
more  flagrant  example  of  this  contradiction  is 
found  in  the  new  capitol  building  at  Harris- 
burg,  where,  in  the  House  of  Representatives, 
as  one  looks  beyond  the  great  candelabra  (pur- 
chased by  the  pound  at  extravagant  figures) 
to  the  sumptuously  embossed  gallery  (con- 
tracted for  by  the  yard  and  equally  extrava- 
gant), one  sees  in  raised  letters, — "Ye  shall 
know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free."  A  great  outcry  has  been  raised  against 
[102] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


the  removal  of  the  familiar  motto  "In  God 
we  trust"  from  some  American  coins.  Clergy- 
men who  have  never  felt  responsibility  for  un- 
holy traffic  carried  on  by  these  tokens,  demand 
the  restoration  of  the  hypocritical  legend.  Tri- 
fling with  the  symbols  and  words  of  religion 
and  toying  with  sacred  things  is  a  sadder  com- 
mentary on  our  times  than  any  evidence  of 
godless  morality. 

With  regard  to  its  being  godly  or  godless, 
a  moral  or  an  immoral,  age,  we  cannot  be- 
lieve that  God  is  concerned;  we  cannot  speak 
of  God  as  vain  any  longer,  nor  can  we  longer 
believe,  as  the  Old  Testament  teaches,  that  He 
is  jealous;  He  is  less  moral  than  we  try  to  be 
if  He  can  be  moved  by  such  impulses.  It  is 
not  possible  to  conceive  of  a  Supreme  Being 
in  terms  of  twentieth  century  morality,  who 
could  ask  more  than  that  His  creatures  be 
moral.  There  is  both  historic  and  contem- 
porary evidence  that  performance  without  pro- 
fession is  preferable  to  profession  without 
performance,  as  in  the  case  of  the  son  who 
Said, — "I  go  not,"  but  went. 
[103] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Politics  is  not  the  only  order  that  "makes 
strange  bed-fellows."  Statistics  indicate  that 
criminals  are  generally  orthodox;  this  has  a 
quantitative  explanation  in  the  fact  that  crim- 
inals naturally  belong  to  the  class  of  men  con- 
stituting the  greatest  number,  the  class  which 
takes  its  religious  creed  and  its  moral  code 
most  easily.  It  is  also  involved  in  the  frag- 
mentary character  of  our  lives.  Religious 
faith  is  detached  from  secular  life,  as  is  re- 
ligious organization.  In  this  respect  it  is  no 
more  peculiar  than  politics  or  industry ;  so  that 
the  lack  of  harmony  need  not  be  laid  exclu- 
sively at  the  door  of  either  theology  or  ethics ; 
but  it  is  obviously  more  reprehensible  in  the 
religious  world  to  fail  to  grasp  the  fulness  of 
life. 

Morality  and  religion  may  be  harmonized 
and,  at  the  same  time,  reconciled  with  the 
other  human  wants,  only  by  considering  life 
as  a  whole.  The  social  process  consists — as 
Professor  Small  has  most  lucidly  expounded  1 


i  Albion    W.    Small,    "General    Sociology." 

[104] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


— in  the  progressive  satisfaction  of  the  six 
comprehensive  wants:  Wealth,  health,  so- 
ciability, taste,  knowledge,  righteousness.  To 
put  the  satisfaction  of  these  wants  within  the 
reach  of  all  is  the  goal  of  society,  the  function 
of  the  state,  and  by  this  standard  we  must  also 
measure  religion.  These  six  wants  have  been 
analyzed:  they  must  also  be  moralized,  syn- 
thesized and  democratized.  Desirable  as 
would  be  the  moralizing  of  the  various  wants, 
nothing  less  than  synthesis  will  satisfy,  but 
the  conspicuous  tendency  of  the  church  to-day 
is  to  fall  into  the  prevalent  error  of  our  nine- 
teenth century  heritage, — that  of  overspecial- 
ization. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  hu- 
man interests  are  specialized,  consider  the  em- 
phasis put  on  the  economic  want.  Because  of 
the  exaggeration  of  its  purely  material  as- 
pects, we  cannot  speak  of  wealth  in  the  broad, 
human  language  of  John  Ruskin  or  John 
Hobson  or  Simon  Patten,  which  claims  "there 
is  no  wealth  but  life."  The  church  has  sel- 
dom interfered  with  economic  processes,  but 
[105] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

it  preaches  the  stewardship  of  wealth  and  de- 
mands for  itself  the  administration  of  a  por- 
tion, on  the  ground  that  wealth  will  be  thus 
moralized.  This  is  pitifully  partial,  and  indi- 
cates, as  the  examination  of  every  other  want 
would,  the  superior  potentialities  of  the  state. 
The  higher  moral  standards  of  to-day  will  no 
longer  tolerate  the  conception  of  the  classical 
economist,  that  some  economic  actions  are  non- 
moral.  Twentieth  century  ethics  knows  no 
non-moral  act.  The  popular  philosophy  of 
Mr.  Benjamin  Kidd,  which  condoned  a  cut- 
throat struggle  for  existence,  on  account  of 
the  beneficent  influence  of  a  subsequent  appli- 
cation of  altruism,  yields  to  the  common  sense 
ethics  of  a  democratic  philosophy. 

The  two  opposing  philosophies  concerned 
with  the  material  satisfactions  are  individual- 
ism and  socialism:  one  has  its  resultant  reli- 
gious expression  in  Protestantism,  the  other 
in  materialism.  Protestantism  came  into  Eu- 
rope at  the  time  of  the  development  of  the 
world-market,  and  has  expanded  with  the 
growth  of  industry.  It  has  been  identified 
[106] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


with  the  nations  of  western  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica which  have  stood  in  the  front  of  the  move- 
ments of  commerce  and  which  have  been 
earliest  witnesses  of  the  industrial  revolution. 
Protestantism  has  been  easily  reconciled  to 
the  doctrines  of  the  struggle  for  existence,  the 
survival  of  the  fittest  and  competition.  It 
has  been  itself  an  individualizing,  disintegrat- 
ing influence.  In  the  process  of  disintegra- 
tion it  has  done  what  in  Nature  is  well  done. 
We  do  not  always  want  cohesion,  we  must 
occasionally  have  a  disintegrating  force,  and 
in  securing  the  right  of  private  judgment  and 
protesting  against  the  undue  compulsion  and 
conformity  of  the  church,  Protestantism  has 
performed  valuable  services.  Nevertheless,  it 
has  thereby  given  sanction  to  some  of  the  most 
destructive  forces  of  industry.  So  harmon- 
ious has  Protestantism  found  its  beliefs  with 
those  of  contemporary  industry  that  it  has  been 
entirely  ineffectual  in  combating  industrial 
evils.  On  the  contrary,  by  its  dependence  on 
voluntary  financial  support,  it  has  come  largely 
under  the  control  of  men  who  direct  the  affairs 
[107] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

of  business  and  whose  philosophy  of  life  is 
determined  chiefly  by  pecuniary  motives.  It 
has  also  undermined  the  broad,  mediaeval  cath- 
olicity of  the  historic  church,  the  special  haven 
of  the  poor  and  oppressed. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  scale,  socialism,  with 
its  protest  against  individualism,  has  found 
much  of  its  support  in  the  philosophy  of  ma- 
terialism. As  a  scheme  of  social  reconstruc- 
tion, primarily  designed  to  secure  economic 
justice,  from  which  the  satisfaction  of  all 
other  wants  is  expected  to  result,  it  has  nec- 
essarily concerned  itself  almost  exclusively 
with  the  economic  want.  The  justification 
for  placing  socialism  with  religious  move- 
ments, is  found  in  the  tremendous  moral  zeal 
which  accompanies  the  possession  of  this  faith, 
and  which  opposes  the  fundamental  principles 
of  protestant  individualism.  The  materialis- 
tic interpretation  of  history  furnishes  a  phi- 
losophy of  life,  and  the  socialistic  ideal  de- 
duced from  it  is  both  a  prophetic  and  an 
evangelizing  force.  Its  function  is  as  obvious 
as  that  of  the  Protestant  Reformation,  but 
[108] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


its  obsession  with  economic  functions  is  as 
great  a  limitation  as  the  dependence  of  Pro- 
testantism on  industrial  competition. 

Physiological  satisfactions  have  also  found 
their  expression  in  religious  organizations. 
Sensualism  has  characterized  not  only  such  a 
great  religion  as  Mohammedanism,  but  such  a 
Christian  off -shoot  as  Mormonism.  Mormons 
may  be  as  free  from  the  sensual  element  of 
their  religion  as  many  Mohammedans  are; 
polygamy  may  be  abhorrent  to  them,  but  the 
original  differentiation  came  from  an  exag- 
geration of  the  sensual.  A  more  refined,  but 
equally  specialized,  emphasis  of  the  physiolog- 
ical is  found  in  that  modern  form  of  Epicu- 
reanism, Christian  Science.  Christian  Scien- 
tists are  normally  no  more  sensual  than  worthy 
Epicureans,  of  whom  it  could  not  have  been 
said  that  "their  god  is  their  belly";  but  the  in- 
evitable result  of  focussing  the  attention  on 
the  body,  even  when  it  involves  the  denial  of 
bodily  ailments,  is  to  give  to  physical  welfare 
an  inordinate  amount  of  attention.  There  are 
broad-minded  people  in  the  Christian  Science 
[109] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

churches;  there  are  very  kindly  people,  and 
socially  disposed  people;  their  positive  con- 
tribution is  found  in  the  denial  of  the  time- 
honored  conception  that  virtue  is  inevitably  as- 
sociated with  pain;  but  their  complacent,  per- 
sonal satisfaction  with  health,  physical  or 
spiritual,  interferes  with  social  service  and  so- 
cial organizaton.  Christian  Science  opposes 
by  its  cheerful  inertia  the  aggressive  move- 
ments toward  the  unity  of  society. 

The  satisfaction  of  the  social  want  has  its 
most  important  exposition  in  the  state,  but 
Second  only  to  this  are  the  social  emphasis  and 
(exaggeration  which  come  from  the  great  Cath- 
olic churches, — Roman,  English,  and  Greek. 
The  danger  of  making  the  form  of  organiza- 
tion more  important  than  the  content  is  fa- 
miliar to  Americans  in  the  obstructive  force 
of  their  written  constitutions  and  charters. 
It  is  a  common  American  fallacy  to  expect 
automatic  government  through  the  perfection 
of  political  mechanism,  until  the  citizen  exists 
for  government,  and  not  government  for  the 
citizen.  The  same  exaggeration  of  social  or- 
[HO] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


ganization,  in  this  case,  the  hierarchy,  op- 
presses the  Roman  Catholic  church.  The  in- 
fallibility of  the  Pope,  like  the  infallibility  of 
the  Czar,  is  an  anachronism,  in  an  age  of  in- 
creasing democracy;  but  the  parochial  organ- 
ization of  Catholicism  is  a  beneficent  result  of 
the  evolutionary  process,  and  testifies  to  the 
value  of  systematic  organization.  It  is  not 
impossible  to  anticipate  the  reconstruction  of 
the  Catholic  churches  on  the  basis  of  democ- 
racy, after  the  manner  of  the  origin  of  repre- 
sentative government  on  the  ruins  of  the  feudal 
system. 

However,  two  of  the  obvious  flaws  of  this 
over-systematized  system  are  the  inevitable 
repression  of  freedom  of  thought  and  the  un- 
happy device  of  celibacy.  The  limitations  put 
upon  the  freedom  of  thought  in  any  given  time 
are  perpetuated  by  the  prevention  of  the  physi- 
cal inheritance  of  much  of  the  best  talent  of 
the  Catholic  population.  The  flower  of  its 
manhood  has  no  seed,  because  it  remains  celi- 
bate. In  the  face  of  these  handicaps,  the  in- 
sidious influence  of  progressive  ideas  is  a  most 
[HI] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

hopeful  sign.  When  a  peasant  Pope  can  con- 
demn such  pregnant  truths  as  fall  under  the 
ban  of  the  Encyclical  on  Modernism,  the 
•thoughtful  onlooker  has  raised  for  his  con- 
sideration two  queries:  if  such  criticism  is  at 
work  within  the  church,  in  spite  of  all  the  re- 
pressive influence  of  its  huge  organization, 
how  long  can  that  powerful  structure  with- 
stand the  assaults  on  its  foundation,  and,  sec- 
ondly, if  the  mandate  of  a  Pope  can  establish 
the  authority  of  current  ideas,  what  may  not 
a  progressive  Pope  accomplish  by  lending  the 
power  of  his  infallibility  to  the  dissemination 
of  such  doctrines  as  are  contained  in  the  fol- 
lowing statements  of  Catholics,  condemned  by 
Pope  Pius  X: — 

Christ  had  not  the  intention  of  constituting  the  church 
as  a  society  to  endure  on  earth  through  successive  cen- 
turies; on  the  contrary,  He  believed  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  would  come  at  the  end  of  the  world  which 
was  then  imminent. 

The  organic  constitution  of  the  church  is  not  immu- 
table. On  the  contrary,  Christian  society,  like  human 
society,  is  subject  to  perpetual  evolution. 

The  dogmas,  the  sacraments,  the  hierarchy,  in  their 
[112] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


conception,  as  well  as  in  their  existence,  are  only  the 
interpretation  of  the  Christian  thought  and  of  the  evo- 
lution which  by  external  additions  have  developed  and 
perfected  the  germ  that  lay  hidden  in  the  gospel. 

Simon  Peter  never  suspected  that  the  primacy  in 
the  church  had  been  conferred  upon  him  by  Christ. 

The  Roman  Church  became  the  head  of  all  churches, 
not  by  divine  ordinance,  but  by  purely  political  circum- 
stances. 

The  church  has  shown  herself  to  be  an  enemy  of 
natural  and  theological  sciences. 

Truth  is  no  more  immutable  than  man  himself,  with 
whom,  and  in  whom,  and  through  whom,  it  changes 
perpetually. 

Christ  did  not  teach  a  fixed  determined  body  of  doc- 
trine, applicable  to  all  times  and  to  all  men.  But 
rather,  He  started  a  religious  movement,  adapted  or 
capable  of  being  adapted  to  different  times  and  places. 

The  church  has  shown  herself  incapable  of  effectively 
defending  ethical  gospel,  because  she  obstinately  is  at- 
tached to  immutable  doctrines  which  are  incompatible 
with  modern  progress. 

The  specialization  of  the  aesthetic  want  is 
found  in  such  diverse  expressions  as  the  Salva- 
tion Army  and  the  Ritualistic  movement. 
While  there  is  an  appeal  to  a  different  qual- 
ity of  taste  in  these  two  religious  movements, 
[1131 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

there  is  in  each  case  an  emphasis  of  the  sen- 
suous. The  jarring  note  of  the  tambourine, 
like  the  delicate  aroma  of  incense,  makes  no  de- 
mand on  the  intellect,  but  stirs  the  senses. 
The  appeal  may  be  entirely  legitimate  when 
coordinated  with  the  satisfaction  of  the  other 
wants,  but  it  is  likely  to  lead  to  such  extremes 
as  we  have  seen  in  the  excessive  crudities  of 
the  Salvation  Army  and  the  ultra  refinements 
of  Ritualism. 

The  defect  of  overspecialization  character- 
izes those  movements  which  have  exaggerated 
the  intellectual  want.  Knowledge  is  power, 
and  with  the  popularization  of  science  in  the 
nineteenth  century  people  have  tried  to  save 
their  souls  by  it,  the  result  being  secularism 
and  rationalism.  During  the  middle  decades 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  to  a  less  degree 
subsequently,  especially  in  England,  organ- 
izations multiplied,  based  upon  the  expecta- 
tion that  exact  science  would  afford  a  sufficient 
philosophy  of  life.  There  is  still  a  great  in- 
ternational, free  thought  movement  whose  de- 
structive services  are  invaluable.  Its  weak- 
Cm] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


ness  is  not  the  one  commonly  attributed  to  it, 
of  undermining  the  foundations  of  faith,  but 
rather  of  building  upon  a  new  basis  of  insuffi- 
cient breadth  through  the  exaggeration  of 
knowledge. 

Rationalism  has  been  a  kindred  force,  not 
necessarily  denying  the  divine  or  supernatural, 
but  escaping  from  the  authority  of  revelation 
and  inspiration.  The  latest  form  of  this  is  in 
the  growing  contemporary  New  Thought 
movement,  whose  adherents  believe  in  the  con- 
quering power  of  mind.  Without  any  au- 
thoritative sanction  such  as  the  Christian 
Scientists  find  in  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  the 
New  Thought  advocates  nevertheless  believe 
in  what  agnostic  psychologists  would  call  mi- 
raculous transformations,  to  be  effected  by 
the  power  of  the  trained  mind.  It  is  idle  to 
deny  the  abundant  evidence  of  the  increasing 
value  of  these  principles,  but  they  suffer  from 
the  same  flaw, — over-emphasis  of  a  single  one 
of  the  essentials  of  human  satisfaction. 

It  may  seem  hypercritical  to  quarrel  with 
those  who  make  righteousness  the  end  of  their 
[115] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

religious  organizations;  but,  unhappily,  we 
find  that  such  single-mindedness  of  purpose, 
however  lofty,  may  limit  the  appreciation  of 
the  wholeness  of  human  life.  Among  the 
most  earnest  and  valued  exponents  of  spon- 
taneous morality  are  the  Quakers,  yet  the  fine 
spiritual  quality  of  their  interpretation  of  re- 
ligion cannot  conceal  the  fact  that  it  has  proved 
itself  ineffective.  The  Society  of  Friends 
does  not  arrive;  it  does  not  affect  society  as  it 
should.  It  has  been  quite  frequently  asso- 
ciated with  a  devotion  to  business,  inconsistent 
with  good  politics  and  good  society,  notably 
so  in  the  Quaker  City. 

The  tendency  to  exaggerate  individual 
righteousness  is  found  also  in  that  sort  of 
Christian  faith  expressed  by  the  word  "Tol- 
stoyan," — the  belief  in  non-resistance  and  as- 
ceticism. It  is  among  the  most  wholesome  of 
all  the  protests  against  the  complexity  of  mod- 
ern civilization  and  the  timidity  of  organized 
Christianity,  and  is  ineffective  chiefly  because 
its  followers  do  not  comprehend  life  as  a 
whole.  It  is  unequal  to  the  expression  of  a 
[116] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


universal  religion.  The  truly  religious  must 
at  least  be  in  the  world,  if  not  of  it,  and  while 
there  is  no  taint  of  self-righteousness  about 
the  followers  of  Tolstoy,  such  as  that  asso- 
ciated with  those  whom  the  Scot  calls  the 
"unco'  guid,"  there  is  an  abstraction  and  an 
aloofness,  intrinsically  admirable  but  socially 
unsatisfying. 

The  church  has  failed  as  the  organizer  and 
defender  of  religion.  It  is  dominated  too 
often  by  some  single  human  interest.  It  is 
too  worldly  to  let  religion  expand,  and  too 
unworldly  to  give  humanity  a  chance.  It  is 
sensitive  to  the  limitations  of  every  age,  while 
lacking  the  freedom  to  rise  to  the  new  pos- 
sibilities. When  it  moralizes  human  wants, 
it  is  with  conventional  morality;  when  it 
specializes  them  it  is  to  curtail  its  suspecti- 
bility  to  the  universal  forces  of  the  time.  It 
is  serviceable  in  conserving  or  reviving  various 
wants  while  inadequate  to  their  synthesis. 
Religion  must  reach  into  the  recesses  of  the 
remotest  human  interests,  but  the  church  has 
not  been  big  enough  to  comprehend  them  all. 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

We  are  confronted  by  the  difficulty  of  a 
national  church  and  the  need  of  a  national  or- 
ganization of  religion.  It  is  no  more  incon- 
gruous to  have  a  national  organization  of  un- 
iversal religion  than  to  have  a  national  organi- 
zation of  humanitarianism.  Patriotism  is  in 
inverse  ratio  to  sect  and  to  party.  Patriotism 
is  the  expression  of  our  loyalty  to  the  largest 
group  of  human  beings  we  can  comprehend,  as 
Mazzini  has  taught  us.  There  can  no  longer  be 
a  national  religion,  but  there  may  be  a  national 
faith  as  a  condition  of  a  universal  faith,  which 
shall  at  least  be  larger  than  any  of  the  integral 
elements  in  the  country  itself;  in  the  church; 
in  industry;  in  politics;  or  any  other  frag- 
ment of  social  life. 

There  is  a  common  faith  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple; it  may  not  be  tangible,  it  may  not  have 
been  capable  of  expression  in  creeds,  without 
producing  schism  and  sect;  but  it  can  be  con- 
ceived, and  it  is  in  need  of  organization.  The 
state  must  be  supreme;  the  church  must  be 
subordinate;  and  religion  can  only  be  free  in 
the  state,  Our  minds  have  been  so  befogged 
[118] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


by  the  conflict  between  church  and  state  that 
we  have  grown  unable  to  see  the  harmony  of 
religion  and  society.  When  it  is  recognized 
that  every  individual  must  have  his  own  re- 
ligion, regardless  of  the  ecclesiastical  author- 
ity to  which  he  may  hold  allegiance,  then  it 
will  be  seen  that  only  the  state  can  facilitate 
this. 

The  conflict  between  state  and  church  in 
France  seems  to  throw  light  upon  our  problem. 
The  state  is  trying  to  assert  its  supremacy  over 
the  church;  the  church,  so  far  as  it  is  conscien- 
tious in  its  activities,  argues  that  it  is  universal 
and  therefore  superior  to  the  state.  If  it  were, 
if  they  had  such  a  national  church,  if  it  could 
make  its  claims  to  universalism  good,  would  it 
not  be  loyal  to  the  interests  of  society  as  a 
whole,  and  how  can  society  as  a  whole  be  served 
except  through  the  state  ?  The  present  organ- 
ization of  the  state  may  be  as  imperfect  as 
the  present  organization  of  the  church,  but  the 
state  is  the  only  organization  which  represents 
society.  The  church  is  the  very  imperfect, 
highly  specialized  organization  of  one  of  so- 
[119] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

ciety's  functions,  and  if  it  actually  moralized 
all  human  wants,  it  could  still  serve  society 
fully  only  as  an  instrumentality  of  the  state. 

That  the  church  has  sometimes  seemed  su- 
perior to  the  state  only  means  that  church- 
men have  sometimes  been  superior  to  states- 
men in  their  capacity  for  understanding  the 
interests  of  society  as  a  whole.  The  transi- 
tion through  which  France  is  passing  gives 
promise  of  a  great  spiritualizing  force,  in 
consequence,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  state's 
having  won  its  supremacy  as  the  best  organi- 
zation that  human  beings  have  as  yet  been 
able  to  find  to  protect  their  common  interests, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  by  the  endeavor  of 
the  church  to  prove  its  worth  as  the  exponent 
of  the  religion  of  the  people,  rather  than  the 
politics  of  the  ecclesiastics. 

We  have  the  same  problem  here  in  relation 
to  church  and  state.  We  declare  by  our  Con- 
stitution that  citizens  shall  be  free  from  any 
special  religious  influence.  We  began  our  na- 
tional life  when  it  was  more  easy  to  distin- 
guish, but  if  religion  becomes  universal,  and 
[120] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


the  antithesis  to  the  secular  disappears,  we  do 
not  need  to  make  these  limitations.  At  pres- 
ent we  are  in  the  unhappy  state  where  those 
who  would  like  to  see  a  better  knowledge  of 
the  Bible  by  our  American  citizens  generally, 
are  nevertheless  unable  to  assent  to  the  idea 
that  it  should  be  taught  in  the  public  schools. 
Every  one  must  deprecate  the  lack  of  interest 
in  the  Hebrew  and  Christian  scriptures.  It  is 
a  grievous  gap  in  our  intellectual  and  moral 
equipment ;  but  so  long  as  belief  in  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  scriptures  gives  people  divine  sanc- 
tion for  their  differences  of  interpretation,  it 
becomes  an  infringement  of  democratic  liber- 
ties to  give  the  state's  support  to  the  common 
study  of  the  Bible. 

In  spite  of  this  dilemma,  which  has  been  so 
uncompromisingly]  met  by  the  Constitution,  in 
many  of  the  states  religious  exercises  are  con- 
ducted Haily  in  the  schools.  A  person  of  re- 
ligious sensibilities  cannot,  without  being  of- 
fended, attend  a  school  and  hear  the  Bible  read 
perfunctorily,  by  the  teacher  who  has  this 
onerous  duty  for  the  day,  to  an  uninterested 
[121] 


T he  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

and  irreverent  group  of  children.  When  this 
is  followed  by  a  labored,  extempore  prayer, 
— the  least  objectionable  response  to  which  is 
boredom — the  offense  becomes  sacrilege.  In 
violation  of  the  principle  that  every  one  shall 
have  free  expression  of  his  own  religious  con- 
victions, we  open  our  legislative  assemblies  and 
political  conventions  with  prayer, — a  pecul- 
iarly disheartening  practice,  when  one  appre- 
ciates that  the  only  persons  distressed  are  prob- 
ably those  with  conscientious  scruples  and 
those  who  are  impatient  to  proceed  with  their 
unrighteous  plans  which  are  momentarily  de- 
layed by  this  hypocritical  procedure. 

There  is  no  objection  to  any  devout  person's 
praying  for  the  legislators  and  administrators 
of  the  state.  There  is  no  objection  to  the  use 
of  the  property  of  the  state  for  such  pur- 
poses, provided  it  does  not  infringe  upon  the 
equal  rights  of  other  citizens.  When,  how- 
ever, a  prayer  in  the  Oklahoma  legislature 
that  a  certain  candidate  may  be  the  next  Pres- 
ident of  the  United  States  is  greeted  with  ap- 
plause by  the  Democratic  members,  it  implies 
[122] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


that  those  whose  sentiments  are  not  expressed 
have  either  their  political  or  their  religious 
rights  violated. 

There  ought  to  be  no  opposition  to  the  use 
of  the  public  school  for  the  teaching  of  the 
Bible,  provided  it  is  not  a  part  of  the  school 
curriculum  and  is  permitted  to  every  group 
of  people  who  wish  to  give  such  instruction 
outside  of  school  hours.  It  is  deplorable  that 
the  instruction  might  be  given  by  dogmatists 
and  sectarians  instead  of  by  a  trained  teacher 
in  literature;  but  that  must  be  the  solution  un- 
til the  belief  in  the  inspiration  of  the  scrip- 
tures shall  cease  to  divide  people  into  sects. 
Meanwhile,  it  would  be  much  better  to  have 
this  public  form  of  instruction  subject  to  re- 
view at  the  bar  of  public  opinion,  than  to 
leave  biblical  and  other  ethical  instruction  to 
the  incompetents  who  are  the  majority  of  the 
staff  of  any  average  Sunday  school. 

In  America,  where  the  state  church  is 
scorned,  and  religion  and  politics  are  supposed 
to  be  divorced,  there  is,  however,  the  exemp- 
tion of  ecclesiastical  property  from  taxation, 
[123] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

This  violates  the  equal  rights  of  citizens  by  in- 
volving the  greater  taxation  of  others  who 
do  not  believe  in  the  ministrations  of  these 
churches.  It  is  more  practicable  for  the  state 
to  provide  edifices  for  common  worship,  or  for 
the  consecutive  service  of  different  bodies  of 
religionists,  so  that  all  may  have  use  of  public 
property  without  discrimination,  than  to  ex- 
empt sectarian  church  property.  If  people 
will  have  private  churches,  they  should  be  per- 
mitted to  do  so  and  to  pay  for  them;  but  if 
they  will  worship  in  common,  or  in  a  common 
building,  as  often  occurs  in  Switzerland,  it 
may  promote  universal  religious  fellowship. 
The  field  houses  of  the  Chicago  small  parks 
may  be  used,  so  the  authorities  declare,  for  all 
worthy  public  purposes  which  are  not  political 
or  religious.  A  great  advance  is  shown  in  the 
frequent  use  of  the  English  town  halls  for  all 
public  purposes  without  distinction,  so  long 
as  there  is  no  discrimination.  The  promotion 
of  universal  religion  by  the  nation  may  be  fur- 
thered at  least  by  the  public  provision  of  places 
of  worship  and  religious  instruction  for  all 
[124] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


who  are  willing  thus  to  recognize  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  state,  without  insisting  on  special 
privileges  from  the  state  for  the  private  wor- 
ship of  their  private  God  in  their  private 
meeting  house. 

The  inevitable  difficulty  which  will  be  per- 
ennially encountered  with  those  who  cannot 
make  a  universal  interpretation  of  religion  may 
be  illustrated  by  the  protest  made  in  New 
York  City  and  elsewhere  against  the  observ- 
ance of  Christmas  in  the  public  schools.  The 
arguments  which  have  been  used  against  the 
reading  of  even  selected  passages  from  the 
Bible,  in  the  schools  attended  by  Protestants, 
Catholics,  Jews  and  others,  do  not  seem  to 
hold  with  equal  force  against  the  observance 
of  Christmas.  If  songs  expressive  of  the 
miraculous  and  supernatural  are  eliminated, 
which  should  of  course  be  done  out  of  defer- 
ence to  the  varying  faiths,  the  most  orthodox 
Jew  cannot  find  fault  with  the  celebration  of 
the  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  the  most  im- 
portant individual  in  western  civilization. 
The  fact  that  the  festival  coincides  with  a  Jew- 
[125] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

ish  celebration,  and  is  only  the  historic  suc- 
cessor of  a  great  pagan  institution,  need  not 
detract  from  its  widely  accepted  significance 
as  a  day  of  "peace  and  good  will  among  men." 
This  protest  in  New  York  against  Christ- 
mas exercises  in  the  public  schools  and  the 
almost  contemporaneous  discussion  in  Chicago 
on  the  literary  use  of  selected  passages  of 
the  Bible  point  to  the  most  significant  weak- 
ness of  the  church  as  the  custodian  of  religion. 
In  the  city  with  the  largest  Jewish  popula- 
tion in  the  world,  a  very  imposing  protest  was 
made  against  the  Christmas  celebration,  only 
to  be  over-ruled  by  the  spontaneous  expres- 
sion from  organized  Christianity  and  else- 
where, and  a  prompt  decision  to  retain  the 
Christmas  exercises.  In  Chicago,  on  the  con- 
trary, where  a  very  sober  and  harmonious  de- 
mand had  come  for  the  use  of  passages  from 
the  Bible,  approved  by  Catholics,  Protestants, 
and  Jews,  public  opinion  again  made  the  de- 
cision for  the  school  board,  this  time  adversely. 
In  each  case  the  extent  of  popular  disapproval 
was  quite  unexpected.  Greater  reliance  can 
[126] 


Religion  and  the  Church 


be  placed  upon  the  good  common  sense  of  the 
people  than  upon  the  demands  of  theologians, 
or  even  the  judgment  of  pedagogues.  In 
neither  case  is  the  decision  necessarily  final; 
but  in  both,  one  must  see  the  tremendous  sig- 
nificance of  drawing  from  the  great  heart  and 
common  sense  of  the  multitude,  the  dynamic 
of  faith. 

A  national  organization  of  religion,  like  the 
national  faith,  will  pass  beyond  the  scope  of 
the  church  or  churches.  The  church  of  the 
republic  will  know  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile, 
Greek  nor  Barbarian,  bond  nor  free,  because 
its  raison  d'etre  will  not  be  that  of  external 
authority,  historic  orthodoxy,  or  the  aggre- 
gate of  temperamental  faiths,  but  the  will 
of  the  people,  inspired  by  the  moral  impulse 
of  collective  effort  in  the  state.1 


Coit,  "  National  Idealism  and  a  State  Church." 


[127] 


[129] 


CHAPTER  V 

RELIGION   AND  THE  STATE 

4  4r  I  iHE  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 
number"  satisfied  the  utilitarian  dem- 
ocrats of  the  nineteenth  century,  but 
the  twentieth  century  conception  of  democracy 
demands  the  greatest  good  of  all,  which  can 
be  attained  only  through  the  state.  The 
tragedy  of  civilization  is  the  fragmentary  char- 
acter of  contemporary  life.  Unity  is  sel- 
dom visualized,  never  realized.  The  exag- 
geration and  overspecialization  of  human 
wants  cause  the  inadequacy  of  state  churches 
and  sectarian  religion.  This  overspecializa- 
tion, which  is  being  steadily  intensified  by 
modern  industry,  cuts  even  deeper.  The  in- 
terests of  life  are  considered  exclusively  in 
isolated  departments.  The  state  is  divorced 
from  industry,  the  state  is  divorced  from  re- 
[131] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

ligion,  and  religion  is  divorced  from  industry. 
The  philosophy  of  industrialism  regards  the 
state  as  superfluous,  or  a  nuisance,  except 
when  it  furtively  seeks  its  assistance.  Its 
shibboleth  is  "The  best  government  is  that 
which  governs  least."  The  triumph  of  eco- 
nomic efficiency  in  the  capitalistic  system 
over  hereditary  authority  (formerly  identified 
with  the  state),  delays  the  recognition  of  so- 
cial authority  founded  on  social  utility.  Sim- 
ilarly, religion  has  regarded  the  state  as 
wicked,  the  representative  of  the  secular  and 
the  carnal.  The  antagonism  of  both  religion 
and  industry  to  the  state  may  have  proceeded 
originally  from  the  desire  for  freedom;  but 
having  been  emancipated,  the  feeling  is  nur- 
tured by  the  benefits  enjoyed  through  special 
privileges.  There  is  a  like  antithesis  between 
religion  and  industry.  Religion  is  kept  in  its 
restricted  sphere  for  use  when  needed,  the  in- 
terference with  industrial  methods  being  re- 
duced to  a  minimum.  It  is  true  that  industry 
is  generally  progressive,  and  the  institutions 
of  religion  are  conservative  or  reactionary; 
[132] 


Religion  and  the  State 


but  that  is  because  industry  is  subject  to  the 
pressure  of  the  forces  of  nature,  the  growth 
of  population  and  the  discovery  of  new  re- 
sources, while  organized  religion  is  re- 
strained by  its  pecuniary  needs  from  inter- 
fering too  seriously  with  the  methods  of  the 
economic  world. 

The  unity  of  life  is  not  only  unappreciated, 
it  is  denied  by  the  segregation  of  these  es- 
sential elements.  If  there  is  lack  of  harmony 
between  the  state  and  industry,  or  if  there  is 
opposition  between  the  state  and  religion,  or 
if  the  doctrines  of  religion  are  not  reconciled 
with  the  methods  of  industry,  there  must  be 
waste, — economic,  social,  moral.  The  larger 
life  of  the  whole  people  suffers  through  each 
one  of  these  great  human  interests'  being 
weakened  by  having  attention  f ocussed  too 
largely  on  its  peculiar  specialism.  As  Cole- 
ridge says,  "he  who  begins  by  loving  Chris- 
tianity more  than  truth,  will  continue  by  lov- 
ing the  church  more  than  Christianity,  and 
end  by  loving  himself  more  than  all." 

Every  one  of  these  forces  grows  wan  and 
[133] 


The  Religion  of  a  'Democrat 

anaemic  because  it  tries  to  sustain  life  on  an 
upper  exclusive  level,  withdrawn  from  the 
source  of  social  life,  the  great  common  heart 
of  the  people.  The  state  does  not  spring  from 
the  life  of  the  politician;  the  church  does  not 
spring  from  the  life  of  the  clergy;  the  moral 
force  of  statesmen  and  ecclesiastics  withers 
when  they  become  unrepresentative.  The 
politician,  the  priest,  the  industrialist  is  needed 
only  to  voice  the  common  thought,  as  the  lex- 
icographer records  the  common  tongue. 
Speech  may  be  modified,  refined  and  author- 
ized by  the  cultivated,  but  it  originates  with 
the  masses. 

Applying  these  principles  to  the  problem  of 
religion  and  the  state,  we  observe  that  the 
church  is  concerned  for  the  soul,  but  the  state 
is  concerned  for  the  whole  human  being. 
This  distinction  is  not  always  obvious,  be- 
cause the  state,  kept  by  the  restraint  of  the 
economic  system  from  expressing  its  func- 
tions, has  been  at  times  overshadowed  by 
churchmen  who  expanded  the  boundaries  of 
the  church.  The  state  has  been  caught  be- 
[134] 


Religion  and  the  State 


tween  the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone  of 
the  politician  and  the  industrialist,  and  has 
been  exploited  by  both.  It  has  too  often  been 
limited  practically  to  the  care  of  the  abnormal, 
on  the  supposition  that  free  industry  permits 
the  normal  man,  woman  or  child  to  care  for 
himself.  The  care  of  the  abnormal  has  fur- 
nished the  politician  with  patronage;  the  neg- 
lect of  the  nearly  normal  has  provided  the 
industrialist  with  surplus  labor;  while  the 
church  leaves  the  system  unchanged  to  pursue 
its  specialized  function  of  the  care  of  souls. 
The  church  cries  out  against  intemperance 
and  sexual,  immorality,  the  clergy  lead  revivals 
and  make  raids  against  saloons,  brothels  and 
gambling  houses,  the  pulpit  preaches  a  sys- 
tem of  eternal  rewards  and  punishments  for 
the  obvious  personal  sins;  but  the  complicated 
system  of  modern  society,  the  elaborate  organ- 
ization of  the  state,  and  the  richness  of  human 
life  remain  misunderstood.  Even  if  the  church 
moralize  all  these  human  wants,  as  it  has  hither- 
to failed  to  do,  their  synthesis  and  democratiza- 
tion can  be  accomplished  only  by  the  state. 
[135] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  vision  of  the 
possibilities  of  the  state  is  imperfect  when  one 
sees  the  jealousy  of  the  church  and  of  indus- 
try. Each  uses  the  state  for  its  own  con- 
venience, but  tries  to  keep  the  state's  functions 
negative.  The  big  business  man  shamelessly 
asks  for  tariff  protection,  subsidies,  or  rebates ; 
the  churchman,  for  the  exemption  of  eccles- 
iastical property  from  taxation  and  the  endow- 
ment of  his  schools. 

Whatever  the  imperfections  of  contempor- 
ary life,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the 
state  is  organized  society,  and  that  its  weak- 
nesses are  due  to  the  delegation  of  some  of  its 
functions  to  uncoordinated  institutions.  There 
can  be  no  moral  stability  until  it  is  recognized 
that  the  individual  is  sovereign,  not  subject. 
Industry  lacks  efficiency,  the  church  lacks 
spirituality,  and  the  state  lacks  solidarity,  when 
the  individual  is  not  sovereign.  He  must  be 
master  of  his  occupation,  of  his  faith,  and  of 
his  citizenship,  or  these  are  empty  names.  In 
a  deep  and  real  sense,  democracy  is  the  only 
[136] 


Religion  and  the  State 


morality,  but  democracy  must  mean  the  sov- 
ereignty of  the  people  in  all  human  relation- 
ships. 

The  state  must  synthesize  and  democratize 
all  human  wants.  Lincoln's  popular  phrase 
"government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for 
the  people"  describes  only  political  democ- 
racy, which  cannot  stand  alone.  Carlyle  was 
right  in  saying,  "with  the  fullest  winning  of 
[political]  democracy,  there  is  nothing  won  but 
the  free  chance  to  win."  Another  great  frag- 
ment of  democracy  was  described  by  William 
Morris  as  an  art  "made  by  the  people  and  for 
the  people,  a  joy  to  the  maker  and  the  user." 
With  the  social  and  artistic  interests  included 
iri  the  conception  of  democracy,  there  is  still 
needed  a  democratic  statement  of  the  eco- 
nomic, physical,  intellectual  and  moral  wants 
of  man.  Democracy  means  nothing  less  than 
the  life  of  all,  by  the  cooperation  of  all,  for 
the  welfare  of  all.  Carlyle  said,  "That  any 
man  with  the  capacity  for  knowledge  should 
die  ignorant  is  a  tragedy."  Is  it  not  then  a 
[137] 


TJie  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

crime  that  any  man  with  the  capacity  for 
taste,  righteousness,  sociability,  wealth  and 
health,  should  die  with  these  unattained? 

The  fulness  of  life  can  only  be  secured 
through  the  state.  Imperfect  as  the  state  now 
is,  it  is  no  further  from  the  goal  than  the  prev- 
alent conception  of  life.  The  fulness  of  life, 
involving  the  satisfaction  of  all  kinds  of  wants 
for  all  human  beings,  will  make  possible  the 
social  state.  Expressed  conversely, — which 
the  critical  attitude  of  to-day  compels, — the 
state  is  responsible  for  poverty,  disease,  dis- 
franchisement,  ugliness,  ignorance,  and  im- 
morality. These  are  all  social  evils,  and  can 
only  be  cured  by  social  remedies.  There  can 
be  no  genuine  religion  which  does  not  take 
cognizance  of  these,  no  state  worthy  of  the 
name  which  endures  these,  but  the  church  is 
helpless  to  combat  them,  and  the  religion 
which  comprehends  the  fulness  of  life  must 
work  through  the  state. 

The  demand  that  the  state  must  synthesize 
and  democratize  all  human  wants  will  follow 
from  the  justification  of  the  indictment.  The 
[138] 


Religion  and  the  State 


state  is  responsible  for  poverty.  Without  at- 
tempting to  minimize  individual  responsibility, 
society  must  be  charged  with  waste  of  mate- 
rial resources,  human  talent  and  life.  It  has 
permitted  the  destruction  of  its  forests,  the 
waste  and  pollution  of  its  waters,  with  the  con- 
sequent decrease  in  the  productivity  of  the 
soil,  and  the  devastating  floods  over  the  land 
and  in  the  cities.  Society  has  neglected  to 
conserve  the  richness  of  the  soil,  or  to  deter- 
mine the  ownership  of  it  with  a  view  to  its 
best  cultivation.  Society  permits  landlordism 
to  enervate  the  farmer  in  the  rural  districts 
and  to  destroy  the  initiative  of  the  dweller  in 
the  city.  Society  permits  surplus  labor  to  re- 
main unemployed,  and  then  sustains  by  its 
charities  the  parasitic  industries  which  thrive 
by  beating  down  the  standard  of  living.  None 
of  these  evils  is  within  the  control  of  the  in- 
dividual; the  state  alone  can  regulate  the  just 
distribution  of  wealth  and  the  preservation  of 
the  standard  of  living. 

The  state  is  also  responsible   for  disease. 
It  has  recognized  this  in  legislation  requiring 
[139] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

vaccination,  in  sporadic  efforts  to  prevent  the 
pollution  of  water  and  the  infection  of  milk, 
in  food  and  health  laws,  and  in  the  provision 
of  hospitals  and  other  curative  agencies.  It 
is  also  responsible  for  the  menace  to  life  which 
lurks  in  tenements,  the  fate  which  overtakes 
the  new-born  and  the  unborn,  the  awful  an- 
nual toll  of  deaths  by  violence  and  accident, 
— in  the  mines,  on  the  railways,  by  the  car- 
rying or  possession  of  weapons,  by  the  insuffi- 
cient protection  of  public  places,  and  even  by 
the  celebration  of  the  independence  of  the  na- 
tion on  the  Fourth  of  July.  The  individual 
is  again  helpless,  and  only  organized  society 
can  protect  him. 

The  state  must  be  held  responsible  for  the 
political  and  social  disabilities  of  the  citizen.  I f 
he  is  ignorant,  the  state  should  educate  him ;  if 
he  is  corrupt,  the  state  should  discipline  him; 
if  color  or  sex  is  a  handicap,  the  state  should 
prevent  discrimination.  Instead  of  allowing 
its  citizens  to  be  disfranchised  by  political  or 
economic  masters,  by  sexual,  racial,  or  intel- 
lectual superiors,  it  should  permit  the  widest 
[140] 


Religion  and  the  State 


suffrage,  and  allow  the  citizen  to  disfranchise 
himself,  if  he  will,  by  the  inefficient  use  of  a 
voting  machine.  No  man  can  be  trusted  to 
dispense  the  suffrage  to  others.  The  state 
must  be  impersonal  in  the  treatment  of  its 
citizens  and  thus  assail  the  strongholds  of  priv- 
ilege in  the  name  of  a  genuine  democracy. 

The  state  is  responsible  also  for  ugliness. 
The  destruction  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  the 
disfigurement  of  the  natural  features  of  the 
cities,  the  bad  planning,  the  deficient  open 
spaces,  the  smoke  and  dirt,  the  unscientific 
building  lines  and  inartistic  sky  lines,  the  in- 
accessibility of  art,  often  the  uncomeliness  of 
the  individual's  face  and  figure, — marred  by 
preventible  prenatal  or  postnatal  neglect — are 
within  the  power  of  correction  by  public  reg- 
ulation. 

Similarly,  the  state  can  be  held  accountable 
for  ignorance.  When  a  legalized  system  of 
popular  education  tolerates  six  millions  of 
illiterates  (of  whom  two  millions  are  native 
white  people)  as  is  the  case  in  this  country; 
when  the  statistical  school  age  is  from  six  to 
[141] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

twenty,  and  most  children  leave  school  at 
twelve  or  thirteen;  when  the  admirably 
equipped  high  schools  and  universities  are  at- 
tended by  a  small  fraction  of  the  population, 
while  the  majority  are  too  early  condemned 
to  the  stunting  effects  of  exhausting  or  mo- 
notonous labor,  the  state  cannot  shift  the  re- 
sponsibilty  to  the  individual. 

It  must  also  bear  the  burdens  of  immorality. 
In  the  cities,  institutions  of  vice  are  winked 
at;  in  the  country  the  population  is  allowed 
to  take  the  law  into  its  own  hands;  both  city 
and  country  are  bewildered  by  a  multitude  of 
unenforced,  useless  laws.  The  vast  majority 
of  murderers  escape  discipline  altogether. 
Crimes  against  property  usually  receive  pun- 
ishment proportioned  to  the  weakness  of  the 
offender.  The  newspapers  and  the  stage 
flaunt  immorality,  while  government  impo- 
tently  falls  back  upon  unrepresented  and  un- 
expressed public  opinion. 

The  struggle  for  the  synthesis  of  human 
wants,  in  the  name  of  the  people,  will  at  first 
take  the  form  of  rescuing  from  the  economic 
[142] 


Religion  and  the  State 


institutions  the  control  of  wealth,  health  and 
sociability;  from  the  ecclesiastical  institutions, 
the  control  of  taste,  knowledge  and  righteous- 
ness. As  we  noticed  in  the  discussion  of  the 
church  and  religion,  the  former  group  of  hu- 
man wants  is  not  without  expression  through 
the  church,  and  the  latter  group  is  not  with- 
out regulation  by  industry.  The  beginning 
of  the  realization  of  the  fulness  of  life  through 
the  new  social  state  will  consist  in  the  strug- 
gle to  give  the  state  larger  authority  over  all 
these  wants,  relieving  business  of  its  growing 
dominion  over  wealth,  health  and  sociability, 
and  the  church  of  its  potent  influence  in  taste, 
knowledge  and  righteousness. 

We  can  merely  mention  the  inevitable  strug- 
gle of  the  state  and  industry,  confining  our 
discussion  to  the  relation  of  the  state  and  re- 
ligion, which  may  be  sufficiently  expressed  by 
considering  the  three  so-called  higher  wants. 
The  bad  art  of  to-day  is  largely  commercial, 
but  it  is  made  possible  by  the  acquiescence  of 
the  church  in  a  degradation  of  the  standards 
which  were  universally  upheld  in  the  Middle 
[143] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Ages.  The  church  has  also  contributed  by  its 
prudery  and  puritanism  to  the  discourage- 
ment of  the  nude  in  sculpture  and  painting, 
to  the  boycott  of  the  theatre,  and  to  the  en- 
deavor to  make  art  inaccessible  to  the  people 
on  the  one  day  when  they  might  enjoy  it. 

The  function  of  the  state  in  restoring  art  to 
the  people  will  appear  with  the  universal  open- 
ing of  libraries,  museums,  art  galleries  and  mu- 
sic halls  on  Sunday,  and  the  provision  of  a 
municipal  theatre,  with  special  consideration 
given  to  the  presentation  of  superior  dramas 
and  operas  on  Sunday.  The  dominance  of  an- 
cient, ecclesiastical  ideas,  instead  of  modern 
social  ones  (as  witnessed  in  New  York  in  the 
reaction  against  the  enforcement  of  the  Blue 
Laws),  leads  only  to  the  most  unsatisfactory 
and  compromising  modification  of  the  char- 
acter of  Sunday  performances.  A  logical, 
moral  and  progressive  regulation  would  be 
to  limit  all  theatrical  managers  to  a  six  days' 
week.  Economic  pressure  would  then  close 
the  theatre  on  Monday  as  is  commonly  done  in 
Europe,  and  give  the  people  their  Sunday 
[144] 


Religion  and  the  State 


amusement  without  interfering  with  a  day  of 
rest  for  the  actors  and  employes.  The  state 
alone  can  enforce  one  rest  day  in  seven;  and 
while  it  is  desirable  that  so  far  as  possible 
people  generally  observe  the  same  day  of  rest, 
for  purposes  of  either  recreation  or  worship, 
it  is  only  possible  to  make  the  law  all-inclusive 
by  letting  it  be  elastic. 

In  the  same  way,  the  state  must  officially 
enlarge  the  scope  of  the  public  school,  without 
regard  to  the  jealousy  of  private  institutions, 
educational  or  ecclesiastical.  The  public 
school  house  must  be  used,  not  only  in  the 
evening,  but  on  Sunday.  As  Dr.  Stanton 
Coit  points  out,1  the  hours  when  the  masses 
of  the  people,  because  of  rest  and  leisure,  are 
most  susceptible  to  higher  influences  are  Sun- 
day morning  and  afternoon.  The  church 
does  not  reach  most  of  them  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, except  at  hours  which  would  not  inter- 
fere with  the  further  use  of  the  school-house. 
The  spiritualizing  impulse  which  would  come 


"  Ethical  Democracy." 

[145] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

from  the  opening  of  the  school  buildings  for 
all  worthy  public  purposes  is  entirely  com- 
parable to  the  combined  moral  influence  ex- 
ercised to-day  by  all  churches. 

This  movement  would  carry  us  into  the  sat- 
isfaction of  the  moral  want  as  well.  The  mass 
of  people  are  suffering  to-day  from  spiritual 
pauperism,  because  they  are  unable  to  support 
the  churches  which  provide  their  religious  min- 
istrations. If  they  could  have  moral  instruc- 
tion in  the  schools  on  Sunday,  and  other  days 
at  the  expense  of  the  state,  it  would  in  no  way 
interfere  with  the  privilege  of  some  people  to 
worship  privately  and  independently;  but  it 
would  insure  moral  guidance  for  all.  Democ- 
ratize morality;  democratize  knowledge;  de- 
mocratize taste, — and  secure  the  synthesis  of 
these,  reconciling  the  sacred  and  the  secular,  by 
democratizing  Sunday!  "The  sabbath  was 
made  for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  sabbath." 
There  is  no  tyranny  and  no  monoply  in  this; 
there  will  be  no  churches  closed,  except  for  lack 
of  patronage;  but  they  will  not  be  supported 
(through  exemption  from  taxation)  by  their 
[146] 


Religion  and  the  State 


non-attendants.  All  doctrines  may  be 
preached  in  the  church,  or  on  the  street,  but 
none  can  lack  a  spiritual  home  where  beauty, 
culture  and  morality  may  be  united. 

Is  the  synthesis  of  human  wants  an  academic 
hypothesis,  is  the  larger  democracy  Utopian, 
must  the  state  remain  political  and  inconse- 
quential ?  The  nineteenth  century  answers  by 
both  philosophy  and  movements  of  great  sig- 
nificance in  the  furthering  of  the  higher  life 
of  organized  society.  A  study  of  their  ten- 
dencies points  unmistakably  to  the  social  state 
as  distinguished  from  the  police  state.  The 
revolt  against  eighteenth  century  formalism 
and  conventionality  was  expressed  in  the  rami- 
fications of  the  romantic  movement.  The  ro- 
mantic movement  included  the  reaction  against 
pietism  in  the  Methodist  revival  of  the  eight- 
eenth century,  and  the  ritualistic  movement  of 
the  nineteenth;  it  included  also  the  Gothic  re- 
rival,  with  its  protest  against  the  formal,  un- 
enthusiastic,  pseudo-classic  art,  and  with  its 
constructive  social  philosophies  of  Walter 
Scott,  Pugin  and  Ruskin;  it  included  the  "re- 
[147] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

turn  to  nature"  of  Rousseau,  the  destructive 
criticisms  of  Voltaire;  the  "illumination"  in 
Germany,  and  the  fertilizing  forces  of  Goethe, 
Kant  and  Hegel;  and,  not  least,  included  the 
political  revolutions  in  America  and  France 
and  the  industrial  revolution  in  Great  Britain. 

After  this  creative  ferment,  it  was  logical 
that  the  nineteenth  century  should  witness  con- 
structive agencies  laying  new  foundations  on 
the  ground  cleared  of  ancient  formulas,  dog- 
mas, and  shibboleths.  Among  these  agencies, 
perhaps  the  most  significant  are  non-theolog- 
ical ethics,  evolution  and  sociology. 

Theology  dies  hard,  but  periodically  robbed 
of  some  of  its  authority,  it  then  readjusts  it- 
self to  the  changed  limitations  with  renewed 
vitality.  The  greatest  advances  in  modern 
times  in  theological  speculation  and  biblical 
criticism  are  due  to  theology's  being  shorn 
of  its  assumed  dominion  over  morality.  A 
greater  social  gain,  however,  is  the  emancipa- 
tion of  ethics.  The  harmony  of  ethical  sys- 
tems is  incomplete,  but  the  service  of  ethics  is 
vastly  enriched  by  the  substitution  of  social 
[148] 


Religion  and  the  State 


utility  for  theological  sanction.  A  new  social 
dynamic  is  found  in  the  conception  that  man's 
chief  activities  are  to  be  devoted  to  the  im- 
provement of  this  world  rather  than  the  pre- 
paration for  another.  A  corollary,  satisfac- 
tory even  to  the  theologian,  is  that  life  in  any 
world  is  determined  only  by  service  in  this. 
Thus  far  is  non-theological  ethics  triumphant 
over  historic  theologies. 

The  interpretative  value  of  the  doctrine  of 
organic  evolution  is  equally  important  to  the 
furtherance  of  the  interests  of  the  higher  life. 
The  modern  point  of  view,  illuminated  by  the 
study  of  human  origins  and  processes,  furn- 
ishes the  key  to  social  responsibility  by  the  ap- 
plication of  the  laws  of  development.  As 
Drummond  says,  "Man  must  now  take  charge 
of  evolution,  even  as  hitherto  he  has  been  the 
one  charge  of  it."  Thrown  by  non-theological 
ethics  upon  his  own  resources,  he  finds  in  the 
teachings  of  evolution  a  safer  guide  than  in 
the  spasmodic  creations  and  inspirations  of  the 
old  cosmogony.  He  finds  in  natural,  sexual, 
and  artificial  selection  the  means  of  not  only 
[149] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

transforming  social  institutions,  but  human 
nature  itself,  in  defiance  of  the  ancient,  ener- 
vating doctrine  that  the  frailty  of  human  na- 
ture and  original  sin  are  immutable.  The  in- 
evitable consequence  of  the  revelations  of  or- 
ganic evolution  was  the  birth  of  sociology. 

Sociology  suffers  not  only  from  the  spon- 
taneous protest  of  those  to  whom  doctrines  of 
social  transformation  are  repugnant,  because 
inconvenient,  but  also  from  the  deliberate  op- 
position of  the  pseudo-scientist,  trained  in  the 
intellectual  atmosphere  of  theological  and  pre- 
evolutionary  philosophies.  To  these  must  be 
added  the  handicap  of  its  exponents,  who 
often  utilize  it  for  half-baked  projects  of  so- 
cial reform,  dictated  by  enthusiastic  but  un- 
trained minds,  or  who  obscure  the  social  value 
by  a  labored  scrupulousness  to  be  more  exact 
than  a  science  of  human  wants  and  motives 
ever  can  be.  There  is  too  frequent  justifica- 
tion for  the  definition  paraphrased  from  a  fa- 
mous description  of  metaphysics,  which  de- 
clares sociology  to  be  "the  science  of  telling 
people  the  things  they  already  know  in  ways 
[150] 


Religion  and  the  State 


which  they  cannot  understand."  Neverthe- 
less, non-theological  ethics  and  evolution  make 
the  science  of  the  satisfaction  of  human  wants 
inevitable.  As  its  conclusions  become  founded 
in  wide  research,  it  will  cease  to  be  speculative 
or  controversial  and  become  constructive  and 
dynamic.  These  products  of  nineteenth  cen- 
tury thought  incorporated  the  moral  ideal  in 
sundry  ethical  movements,  of  which  the  most 
representative  are  positivism,  ethical  culture, 
and  socialism. 

Every  extension  of  the  intellectual  horizon 
is  fertile  in  new  religious  movements.  The 
emotional  temperaments  are  caught  by  soul- 
satisfying  sects,  like  Methodism,  Swedenborg- 
ianism,  the  Salvation  Army,  or  Christian  Sci- 
ence; while  the  exaggeration  of  rationalism 
produces  secularism  and  new  thought,  of  mys- 
ticism, theosophy  and  oriental  cults.  The 
sounder  basis  furnished  by  a  knowledge  of  hu- 
man needs,  has  produced  positivism, — the  wor- 
ship of  humanity ;  ethical  culture, — the  fellow- 
ship of  humanity;  and  socialism, — the  organi- 
zation of  humanity. 

[in] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

August  Comte's  religion  of  humanity  has 
not  been  a  success,  but  his  followers  have  been 
a  noble  band  of  humanitarians,  enriching  so- 
ciology and  social  reform.  The  worship  of 
humanity  has  satisfied  neither  theist  nor  athe- 
ist, but  it  is  a  lofty  conception,  not  without 
value  to  the  race.  More  impersonal  than  an- 
cestor worship,  more  unselfish  than  the  reli- 
gions of  reincarnation,  it  has  served  to  empha- 
size the  worth  and  immortality  of  humanity. 
A  religion  founded  on  science,  emphasizing 
the  process  of  development,  from  the  theolog- 
ical through  the  metaphysical  to  the  positive, 
and  devoted  to  the  service  of  humanity,  it  is  the 
very  embodiment  of  non-theological  ethics, 
evolution,  and  sociology. 

The  founder  of  ethical  culture  would  prob- 
ably not  admit  that  fellowship  is  its  goal,  but 
he  was  the  first  to  demand  union  for  moral 
action,  regardless  of  profession  of  faith.  It 
is  not  expected  that  societies  for  ethical  culture 
should  undertake  the  organization  of  hu- 
manity, but  they  provide  a  meeting  place  for 
the  lovers  of  their  kind,  whose  actions  and  as- 
[152] 


Religion  and  the  State 


pirations  are  guided  by  the  moral  ideal.  The 
movement  is  numerically  insignificant,  but  as 
a  type  of  an  indispensable  fellowship  of  the 
democratic  future,  it  is  prophetic.  If  men 
and  women  of  various  traditions,  differing 
gladly  and  profitably  in  their  intellectual  con- 
ceptions, but  united  by  a  moral  purpose,  can 
organize  disinterestedly  in  the  service  of  hu- 
manity, it  can  only  strengthen  fellowship  as  a 
basis  of  the  common  life. 

The  organization  of  humanity  can  be  ef- 
fected only  by  the  state,  which  alone  represents 
all  human  interests  in  any  area.  Every  hu- 
man being,  with  his  activities  and  hopes,  is  the 
concern  of  the  state.  No  human  being  has  a 
life  which  he  can  call  his  own,  apart  from  the 
state.  Hence  the  force  which  undertakes  the 
organization  of  humanity  must  utilize  the 
state.  Socialism  proposes  to  extend  indefi- 
nitely the  bounds  of  the  democratic  state.  It 
is  easy  to  think  of  state  socialism  as  a  merely 
political  movement.  As  such  it  is  unsatisfac- 
tory to  orthodox  socialists  who  find  in  collec- 
tivism an  economic  system  and  a  materialistic 
[153] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

philosophy.  Whether  viewed  politically  or 
economically,  it  must  not  be  overlooked  that  a 
fervor  of  moral  idealism  pervades  the  move- 
ment; that  however  vain  its  dreams,  it  is  the 
only  contemporary  organized  effort  to  secure 
absolute  justice  for  all;  that  its  parish  being 
the  world,  the  state  is  simply  the  unit ;  and  that 
the  international  organization  of  the  workers 
of  the  world,  if  it  could  be  accomplished, 
would  become  shortly  the  organization  of  hu- 
manity. 

These  three  movements,  so  widely  differ- 
ent, are  among  the  joint  products  of  non-the- 
ological ethics,  evolution  and  sociology.  They 
are  all  extra-ecclesiastical,  if  not  anti-theolog- 
ical. Their  source  is  the  imperfect  organiza- 
tion of  society,  their  motive  power  the  service 
of  humanity.  Positivism  has  had  its  day; 
ethical  culture  still  illumines  the  way,  but  the 
future  seems  to  belong  to  some  form  of  social- 
ism. If  the  democratic  state  is  at  all  to  real- 
ize the  dreams  of  sober  collectivists,  and  to 
avoid  the  dangers  pointed  out  by  the  honest 
critics  of  socialism,  it  will  be  by  the  organiza- 
£154] 


Religion  and  the  State 


tion  of  its  ethical  forces,  in  harmony  with  its 
other  elements. 

The  service  of  democratic  religion  will  be 
not  merely  to  the  individual,  in  allowing  free 
expression  to  his  growing  demand  for  the  ful- 
ness of  life,  but  in  permeating  society  with 
a  loftier,  yet  more  practicable,  conception 
of  the  state  and  its  elements.  The  idea  will 
win  its  way  that  "the  city  is  the  hope  of  democ- 
racy." *  Municipal  co-operation  and  social 
solidarity  are  more  promising  than  church  fed- 
eration. National  religion  needs  the  self-gov- 
erning parish  and  the  municipality,  but  not  the 
denomination  and  the  hierarchy.  The  social 
units,  not  too  big  to  be  'comprehended  by  the 
people,  will  be  organized  for  the  progressive 
satisfaction  of  the  wants  of  all  in  the  spirit  of 
democratic  religion,  until  the  common  life  of 
the  coming  century  is  a  synthesis  of  human  in- 
terests, and  all  good  human  work  is  aspiration. 
Laborare  est  orare. 


i  Howe,  "  The  City,  the   Hope  of  Democracy."     Ferguson, 
"The  News-Book"  (Kansas  City,  July,  1907). 

[155] 


IMPERSONAL  IMMORTALITY 


[157] 


CHAPTER  VI 

IMPERSONAL  IMMORTALITY 

AFTER  leading  from  temperament  and 
personality  to  the  relation  of  religion 
to  church  and  state,  it  may  seem  an 
anti-climax  to  revert  to  individual  responsi- 
bility. However,  the  discussion  of  a  greater 
social  utility,  to  be  achieved  through  the  state, 
represents  only  the  objective  purpose  of  our 
inquiry.  We  shall  not  have  completed  our 
survey  until  we  have  deduced  the  subjective 
obligations  of  democratic  religion,  which  may 
be  considered  under  the  term  "impersonal  im- 
mortality." Out  of  the  greater  possibilities 
of  a  more  highly  organized  society,  making 
available  the  fulness  of  life  for  its  members, 
there  comes  naturally  the  obligation  and  in- 
spiration to  the  individual  to  lead  for  himself 
[159] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

this  fuller  life.  Only  the  social  state  can 
make  possible  this  complete  life;  thereby  the 
individual  learns  the  superiority  of  the  com- 
mon life  to  any  form  of  exclusiveness — both 
in  actual  living  and  as  an  inspirational  force. 
The  human  mind  demands  an  incarnation; 
it  is  the  basic  fact  of  most  religions.  Its  moot 
familiar  expression  to  the  Occidental  is  in  the 
Christian  religion.  The  average  mind  re- 
quires its  conception  of  the  infinite  or  of  in- 
finity to  the  incarnated  in  a  human  personality, 
which  it  can  understand ;  this  is  the  strength  of 
the  religions  which  represent  incarnation.  It 
is  not  possible  or  necessary  to  get  average  peo- 
ple to  perceive  the  niceties  of  theological  and 
philosophical  interpretation.  Just  because 
our  minds  work  in  diverse  ways,  the  deeper 
thoughts  must  be  stated  in  common,  human 
terms.  In  trying  to  compass  some  of  the 
depths  and  heights  of  democratic  religion,  it  is 
idle  to  ignore  this  human  need.  It  is  logical 
that  a  personal  religion  should  be  expressed 
not  only  in  personal  experience,  but  through 
a  personal  conception.  Much  of  the  oriental- 
[160] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


ism  which  is  being  exploited  by  the  dissatis- 
fied philosophical  minds  of  to-day  is  only  a 
groping  after  something  akin  to  Christian 
doctrine. 

The  demand  for  an  incarnation  is  found  not 
only  in  our  personal  religious  life,  but  in  the 
time-honored  attitude  toward  those  who  repre- 
sent some  higher  authority,  expressed  most  fa- 
miliarly in  the  sentence,  "The  king  can  do  no 
wrong."  The  king  is  the  divine  representa- 
tive, and  those  who  can  find  little  of  divinity 
in  the  personality  admit  it  in  the  person. 
Those  of  us  who  do  not  believe  in  the  divine 
right  of  kings,  or  in  divine  authority  at  all, 
often  render  hero-worship  to  some  great 
leader,  which  implies  that  he  is  virtually  im- 
peccable. The  multitude  who  accept  unques- 
tioningly  the  divine  authority  of  the  Pope,  or 
the  German  or  Russian  Emperor,  are  not  more 
superstitious  than  those — and  their  name  is 
legion — who  have  believed  that  Grover  Cleve- 
land and  William  McKinley  could  do  no 
wrong.  These  were  certainly  very  imperfect 
representatives  of  the  incarnation  of  divinity; 
[161] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

but  many  of  their  followers  have  justified 
their  every  act. 

In  a  truer  and  more  personal  sense,  we  find 
in  the  "loved  one"  an  incarnation  of  all  the 
virtues  and  graces.  It  is  not  necessary  that 
he  or  she  should  really  possess  this  character. 
There  is  an  accumulation  of  virtue  and  grace 
which  is  quite  comparable  to  the  accumulation 
of  myth  about  the  ancient  prophet  or  king. 
If  one  will  make  a  personal  examination  for 
himself  of  his  attitude  toward  the  "dearest 
person  in  the  world,"  he  will  see  that  enough 
of  the  superstitions  of  the  Hebrew,  Christian 
and  other  religions  which  he  may  have  re- 
jected, are  re-expressed  and  incorporated  in 
his  own  devotion,  to  satisfy  him  that  incarna- 
tion is  the  expression  of  the  average  man's  in- 
terpretation of  perfection. 

The  more  human  an  incarnation  is,  the  closer 
it  comes  to  us;  Jesus,  the  man,  sometimes  cre- 
ates an  effect  in  the  world  beyond  that  made 
by  Jesus,  the  God.  While  not  underestimat- 
ing the  latter  influence,  which  has  been  power- 
ful, it  must  be  recognized  that  some  of  the 
[162] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


simpler  and  more  vigorous  forms  of  the 
Christian  religion  have  laid  great  stress  on  the 
humanity  of  Jesus,  while  trying  to  retain  the 
belief  in  his  divinity.  There  are  certainly  few 
people  who  have  any  competent  conception  of 
that  mysterious  theological  dogma  of  the  third 
century,  known  as  the  Trinity.  The  average 
Trinitarian  is  a  naive  polytheist;  the  child, 
taught  to  believe  in  Father,  Son  and  Holy 
Ghost,  is  a  frank  polytheist.  He  cannot  com- 
prehend that  unity  which  is  the  professed  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinitarian  theology.  In  the 
process  of  eliminating  those  doctrines,  which 
do  not  bear  the  examination  of  twentieth  cen- 
tury thought,  we  find  a  growing  disbelief  in 
Jesus  the  God,  but  we  do  not  find  any  decline 
of  reverence  for  Jesus  the  man.  Most  of  us 
are  not  capable  of  abstract  thought,  and  we 
may  expect  with  certainty  that  the  invariable 
culmination  of  the  finest  thought  of  this  or  any 
subsequent  time  will  centre  in  the  personality 
of  some  individual  life.  This  is  the  expres- 
sion of  Buddhism,  the  religion  most  similar  to 
Christianity,  and  promises  also  to  be  the  focus 
[163] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

of  the  humanitarian  religion  of  many  un- 
churched, who  would  otherwise  have  a  religion 
too  diffuse  for  actual  use  in  daily  life. 

This  incorporation  of  the  ideal  in  a  person- 
ality accounts  for  the  power  of  the  belief  in 
personal  immortality.  There  is  no  need  of 
saying  anything  critical  about  personal  immor- 
tality. Those  who  do  not  find  sufficient  evi- 
dence for  faith,  cannot  claim  to  know  enough 
to  disbelieve  in  it.  An  interpretation  of  im- 
personal immortality  need  not  interfere  with 
any  individual's  conception  of  personal  im- 
mortality. There  are  some  views,  however, 
as  we  have  found  historically  and  still  find, 
even  among  people  who  are  theologically 
emancipated,  which  claim  attention.  One 
must  have  observed  in  his  own  faith  or  expe- 
rience that  it  is  not  uncommon  to  reject  all 
the  foundations  of  the  historic  religions,  to 
lose  belief  in  inspiration  and  revelation,  and 
still  grasp  at  a  faith  in  personal  immortality. 
It  is  natural  to  cling  to  a  belief  in  a  future 
world,  peopled  by  personalities  such  as  we 
[164] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


know.  The  belief  that  goodness  and  spirit- 
uality cannot  die  logically  incorporates  itself 
in  the  idea  of  the  continuance  of  personality 
as  we  have  seen  it. 

It  is  a  contradiction,  that  belief  in  personal 
immortality  does  not  always  enable  one  to  face 
death.  One  might  suppose  that  genuine  be- 
lief in  a  future  life,  which  is  to  be  better  than 
this,  would  reconcile  people  to  death.  Yet 
the  devoutest  believers  in  immortality,  whose 
lives  in  this  world  are  the  best  guarantee  of 
happiness  in  the  next,  who  believe  that  in  any 
future  life  they  would  at  least  be  better  off  than 
they  are  here,  and  who  lustily  sing,  "Filled 
with  delight,  my  raptured  soul  would  here 
no  longer  stay,"  and  other  hymns  expressive 
of  their  desire  at  once  to  leave  this  carnal 
world,  still  cling  with  a  marvelous  tenacity  to 
this  life.  It  might  be  supposed  that  if  the 
earthly  life  is  a  test  for  the  future,  if  we  are 
on  probation  here,  that  this  thought  would  be 
a  determinant  of  our  conduct.  An  unwaver- 
ing faith  in  a  future  life  may  still  be  held  by 
[165] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

people  whose  conduct  would  indicate  that  they 
have  no  regard  for  what  is  going  to  happen 
to  them  hereafter. 

Our  whole  conception  of  the  induction  from 
this  life  to  another  is  practically  shaped  for  us 
by  the  dualism  which  has  so  long  been  part  of 
the  belief  of  humankind.  When  we  think  of 
the  separation  of  the  body  and  the  soul,  we  are 
impressed  with  the  infinite  superiority  of  the 
soul,  and  we  come  to  despise  the  body.  This 
results  in  the  paradox  that,  death  being  repug- 
nant, we  dread  especially  the  loss  of  the  body 
of  the  one  we  have  loved, — a  loss  which  in  the 
minds  of  many  seems  to  be  paramount  to  the 
loss  of  the  spirit  which  inhabited  the  body. 
This  is  so  human,  so  instinctive,  so  nearly  in- 
evitable, as  to  be  almost  above  criticism.  A 
future  age,  which  has  a  tradition  of  centuries 
of  emancipation  from  the  personal  limitations 
of  to-day,  may  perhaps  free  itself  from  this 
fear  of  death:  but  for  us,  death  will  continue 
to  have  its  horrors,  because  the  transition  to 
anything  different  from  this  life  seems  so  dif- 
ficult. Any  future  life  of  disembodied  spirits 
[166] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


seems  irreconcilable  to  anything  that  we  know. 
Although  the  rebellion  of  strong  youth  and 
middle  age  gives  way  to  that  reconciliation  to 
translation  which  frequently  comes  with  old 
age,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  death  is  life,  that 
we  can  placidly  go  to  sleep. 

This  intense  love  of  the  body  is  doubtless 
due  to  the  absorbing  significance  of  personal 
contact.  There  is  nothing  for  the  lover,  in  the 
heavens  above  nor  in  the  waters  beneath  the 
earth,  like  the  touch  of  the  beloved;  there  is 
nowhere  else  to  be  found  such  a  thrill.  It  is 
not  strange  that  we  cannot  face  the  loss  of  it, 
or  that  we  cannot  steel  ourselves  to  that  loss 
even  when  it  has  come.  Personal  contact,  the 
spiritually  minded  must  admit,  produces  at 
least  one  of  the  happiest  sensations;  yet  it  is 
physical.  It  may  be  founded  on  the  most 
beautiful  spiritual  relationship;  the  touch  of 
the  hand  of  the  loved  one  may  express  simply 
the  culmination  of  the  holiest  of  human  satis- 
factions ;  yet  it  is  physical.  It  is  the  elevation 
of  the  physical,  the  justification  of  the  phys- 
ical; it  proves  that  the  physical  is  not  neces- 
[167]  * 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

sarily  harmful,  the  fallacy  of  asceticism. 
That  longing  for  the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand 
is  inevitable  to  a  normal  human  being. 

There  are  two  very  significant  observations 
to  be  made  here:  one  is,  that  having  lost  that 
vanished  person,  or  rather  body,  we  cannot 
look  forward  with  any  assured  knowledge  to  a 
reunion.  In  the  religious  teachings  that  have 
meant  most  to  our  time  and  people,  those  of 
the  Christian  scriptures,  we  find  that  in  heaven 
"there  is  neither  marriage  nor  giving  in  mar- 
riage." It  is  perfectly  human  to  anticipate 
the  resumption  of  the  relations  we  have  had 
here,  although  a  moment's  thought  of  the  com- 
plications which  would  sometimes  ensue  com- 
pels the  recognition  of  its  impossibility.  If 
there  be  such  a  future  life  as  is  portrayed,  for 
example,  in  the  New  Testament,  it  must  be  in- 
finitely finer  than  the  one  we  have  known;  if 
there  are  to  be  such  relationships  as  we  have 
enjoyed,  they  must  be  spiritually  far  beyond 
anything  we  can  comprehend. 

In  the  second  place,  while  we  must  not  deal 
roughly  with  tender  sentiments,  it  is  not  fair, 
[168] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


still  less  religious,  that  the  loss  of  a  vanished 
hand  should  deprive  the  world  of  our  services, 
affection  and  interest.  It  is  not  right  that 
while  we  are  still  numbered  among  the  living, 
we  should  spend  most  of  our  existence  think- 
ing of  the  other  world.  There  are  not  a  few 
people  who  are  simply  waiting  for  the  end; 
and  if  the  end  were  oblivion,  it  were  welcome 
as  contrasted  with  staying  here  without  the 
loved  one  or  loved  ones.  Grief  should  culti- 
vate, not  demand,  sympathy.  Not  only  those 
persons  who  have  no  satisfactory  faith  in  per- 
sonal immortality,  but  also  those  who  cling 
to  the  old  ideas,  have  the  obligation  of  striv- 
ing to  make  their  own  lives  serviceable  to  hu- 
manity, which  has  use  for  all  the  affection 
squandered  on  the  unseen  world. 

There  are  happily  other  forms  of  physical 
exaltation  in  addition  to  the  touch  of  the  loved 
one.  There  is  the  entrancing  exhilaration  of 
nature,  induced  by  sunrise  on  the  mountain 
top,  or  the  nearness  of  the  stars  on  a  clear 
night,  or  the  expanse  of  the  panorama  on  a 
clear  day.  Even  on  the  street  of  the  city, 
[169] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

when  the  breath  of  spring  is  felt  for  the  first 
time  and  every  sense  tingles  with  delicious  im- 
pressions, there  is  a  tangible  quality  in  the 
feeling,  not  unlike  human  touch.  One's  soul 
expands,  he  is  intoxicated  by  his  own  heart 
beats,  and  feels  himself  strong  to  run  any  race 
life  may  set  for  him. 

Akin  to  this  is  the  thrill  of  the  crowd.  It 
seems  a  far  cry  from  the  voice  or  the  caress  of 
the  beloved  to  the  impersonal  roar  or  pressure 
of  the  crowd,  but  even  so,  our  feelings  may  be 
swayed  by  the  common  impulse.  It  may  be 
the  exciting  conclusion  of  a  political  campaign, 
or  the  frenzy  of  a  critical  moment  at  a  foot- 
ball game,  or  a  mass  meeting  in  the  interest  of 
some  great  human  problem,  which  gives  one  a 
thrill  that  for  the  time  being  makes  one  forget 
all  personal  or  clannish  relationships.  Indi- 
vidual experience  is  momentarily  submerged 
in  the  great  unison  of  human  hearts.  Here  is 
an  intensity  of  human  feeling,  whether  stirred 
by  serious  or  trivial  cause,  which,  though 
rarely  experienced,  does  indicate  the  conse- 
quence of  contact  with  humanity. 
[170] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


For  those  persons  who  worship  devoutly  in 
unsullied  faith,  there  are  times  of  uplift  which 
transcend  ordinary  human  satisfaction.  Such 
exhilaration  is  experienced  equally  in  the  sub- 
tle appeals  to  the  emotions  by  Ritualism,  or  the 
fanatical  demonstrations  of  an  evangelical  re- 
vival, or  the  spontaneous  soaring  of  the  soul  in 
a  Quaker  meeting.  It  is  the  weakness  of  ra- 
tionalistic and  humanitarian  religion  that  there 
is  a  dearth  of  such  appeals  to  the  senses. 

There  are  also  occasions  of  peculiar  ecstacy, 
due  to  the  stimulation  of  the  aesthetic  sense. 
Standing  before  a  great  picture,  a  curtain  may 
seem  to  lift,  and  the  world  is  revealed  as  better 
and  more  beautiful  than  it  appears  to  the 
mind's  eye.  Some  fine,  human  story,  or  the 
artist's  interpretation  of  one  of  nature's  won- 
ders, may  make  us  utterly  forget  ourselves. 
We  are  possessed  by  the  experience  for  the 
time,  as  when  one  stands  and  looks  over  the 
edge  of  the  Grand  Canon.  Since  one  may 
have  these  periods  of  exhilaration,  which  are 
more  or  less  comparable  to  the  human  touch 
(the  loss  of  which  makes  us  feel  that  life  is 
[171] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

not  worth  while) ,  surely  not  in  another  world, 
but  in  this  one,  is  scope  for  personal  satisfac- 
tion. Far  more,  there  is  the  privilege  of  per- 
petuating the  benediction  of  the  former  fel- 
lowship by  allowing  it  to  radiate  through  our 
other  relationships  here. 

As  our  horizon  widens,  we  seem  to  become 
more  and  more  insignificant.  Yet  when  we 
understand  the  potentialities  of  human  life 
and  see  how  ramifying  are  the  influences  of  a 
single  individual,  as  well  as  the  import  of  his 
constant  contribution  to  racial  experience,  the 
individual  act  resumes  its  importance.  The 
law  of  the  conservation  of  energy  rules  the 
spiritual  as  well  as  the  physical  world.  The 
physicist  tells  us  that  if  one  but  touch  a  chair, 
he  exercises  a  physical  force  that  is  felt 
through  the  whole  world.  Nothing  is  too  in- 
significant for  consideration  in  the  physical 
laboratory.  Measurements  are  made  of  the 
millionth  part  of  an  inch,  and,  by  the  use  of 
rays  of  light,  infinitesimal  influences  are  re- 
corded. The  supposed  myth  of  our  childhood, 
that  a  pebble  thrown  into  the  sea  sends  waves 
[172] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


to  the  opposite  shore,  is  verified.  Such  is  the 
influence  of  the  individual  act  in  the  spiritual 
world,  which  gives  the  meaning  to  impersonal 
immortality.  In  a  perfectly  real  and  intellig- 
ible sense  the  most  trivial  act  is  of  infinite  im- 
portance. 

One  Saturday  night  I  was  sitting  in  one  of 
the  big  clubs  of  Philadelphia,  at  an  hour  when 
the  important  men  of  the  city  are  accustomed 
to  gather  there.  They  were  strong  men,  with 
strong  faces,  but,  to  be  frank,  there  were  not 
many  fine  faces,  not  many  handsome  faces; 
neither  were  there,  apparently,  many  happy 
faces.  Even  when  they  smiled  they  did  not 
always  seem  happy.  The  character  written  in 
their  faces  was  rather  that  of  the  lines  of 
strenuous  accomplishment  than  beautiful  aspi- 
ration. But  they  were  big  men,  who  were  do- 
ing big  things,  in  one  of  the  world's  great 
centres  of  industry.  Yet,  looking  at  some  of 
those  grizzled  beards  and  hoary  heads,  there 
came  the  thought  of  a  white-headed  patriarch, 
who  might  not  have  been  a  welcome  guest  in 
that  club, — who  was  not  known  widely  while 
[173] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

he  lived, — and  whose  home  was  in  Philadel- 
phia's despised  suburb,  Camden.  Will  the 
collective  influence  of  all  these  men  a  hundred 
years  hence  be  comparable  to  the  pervasive 
force  of  that  good,  old,  gray  poet  of  Camden  ? 
When  we  come  to  understand  religion  and  de- 
mocracy and  life,  may  we  not  discover  that 
Walt  Whitman  means  more  for  humanity  than 
many  captains  of  industry?  Insignificant  as 
may  seem  the  individual,  he  may  have  an  in- 
fluence which  will  work  itself  out  in  the  ages 
which  follow.  There  is  a  wonderful  inspira- 
tion in  the  simplicity  of  the  agencies  which 
have  produced  great  consequences  in  a  com- 
plex world. 

Impersonal  immortality  is  the  perpetuation 
of  oneself  through  the  individuals,  the  insti- 
tutions, and  the  ideals  of  the  years  to  come. 
To  ask  why  one  obscure  person  should  be  con- 
cerned about  the  remote  possibility  that  his  in- 
fluence will  be  momentous,  is  to  ask  why  one 
should  work,  or  be  virtuous,  or  neighborly,  or 
plan  for  the  future  of  one's  family,  or  concern 
oneself  about  any  of  those  obligations  which 
[174] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


the  highest  morality  teaches  us  are  more  im- 
portant than  one's  convenience,  or,  at  times, 
one's  life.  Impersonal  immortality  furnishes 
a  motive  power  more  unselfish  and  more  in- 
spiring than  any  system  of  eternal  rewards  and 
punishments.  It  provides  for  no  death-bed 
repentance,  but  it  makes  the  conception  pos- 
sible that  one  may  overcome  evil  with  good. 
It  enlarges  the  boundaries  of  the  spiritual  life, 
until  the  personal  satisfaction  of  all  human 
wants  becomes  both  legitimate  and  insistent. 
The  attainment  of  the  fulness  of  life  by  the 
individual  here  and  now  is  the  best  promise  of 
its  wider  enjoyment  by  a  coming  generation. 
The  service  of  the  common  life,  here  and 
hereafter,  is  measured  in  terms  of  the  human 
wants, — wealth,  health,  sociability,  taste, 
knowledge,  righteousness, — by  which  the  value 
of  church  and  state  has  been  tested.  The  first 
obligation  of  the  individual  which  has  not  only 
imperative  and  immediate,  but  eternal  conse- 
quences, is  to  do  his  work  well  wherever  he  finds 
himself.  It  is  not  to  be  implied  that  he  is  to 
remain  where  he  cannot  do  his  work  well,  in 
[175] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

obedience  to  the  ancient  sentiment  that  he  is  to 
be  content  where  God  has  put  him.  If,  after 
earnest  consideration,  the  work  proves  to  be 
uncongenial,  it  is  blind  fate  not  divinity,  which 
is  shaping  his  destiny.  The  obligation  to  find 
the  work  which  one  can  do  best  is  as  great  as 
that  of  doing  one's  work  worthily  when  one 
has  found  it.  The  personal  enjoyment  is  re- 
munerative, but  the  greater  motive  is  the  jus- 
tification of  his  place  in  the  world. 

When  the  significance  of  work  is  appreci- 
ated, it  will  throw  light  on  the  importance  of 
the  satisfaction  of  the  other  wants.  Doing 
work  well  will  not  merely  set  a  good  example 
to  one's  coworkers,  or  one's  servants,  or  one's 
employers,  or  guarantee  the  maximum  joy  to 
be  got  out  of  life,  but  establish  a  precedent. 
The  accumulated  precedents  of  average  peo- 
ple make  a  well  nigh  irresistible  tradition. 
Each  piece  of  bad  work  encourages  another, 
as  bad  or  worse;  each  piece  of  good  work  is 
promise  of  continuance  or  improvement.  We 
are  known  as  individuals  to  be  creatures  of 
habit,  but  collective  habits  are  just  as  imperi- 
[176] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


ous,  and  in  the  shaping  of  these,  the  influence 
of  no  individual  is  negligible. 

Any  one  who  does  a  portion  of  the  world's 
work  properly,  in  the  service  of  his  patrons,  is 
contributing  an  influence  of  value,  even  if  his 
own  motive  is  no  better  than  profit-making; 
but  the  added  significance  of  the  feeling  of  re- 
sponsibility is  illustrated  by  a  contrast  which 
will  interpret  the  meaning  of  all  democratic 
religion.  One  of  the  great  department  stores 
of  Boston  has  a  peculiarly  democratic  organi- 
zation; the  relations  between  employers, — as 
they  are  conventionally  called, — and  em- 
ployes,— who  are  in  this  case  exceptionally  in- 
dependent,— being  those  of  intimacy  and  mu- 
tual understanding.  At  one  of  the  monthly 
dinners  of  the  Employes'  Association,  the 
president  of  the  corporation  made  an  address 
which  might  not  be  generally  understood  by 
employers  and  employes  of  these  days.  The 
meaning  of  his  evidently  sincere  words  was 
that  he  felt  that  his  life  and  his  business  should 
be  so  directed  that  everybody  connected  with 
that  establishment  should  share  in  it.  He 
[177] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

felt  called  upon  to  organize  that  business  on 
the  basis  of  democracy,  and  he  said  that  the 
heads  of  this  great  department  store  had 
planned  that  day  for  the  future  of  the  busi- 
ness, after  their  personalities  had  been  elim- 
inated. All  knew  his  feeling,  that  the  func- 
tion of  employers  and  employed  was  co-oper- 
ative; but  his  desire  was  not  merely  to 
develop  a  co-operative  institution,  but  that  this 
establishment  might  become  an  example  for 
all  other  industries  to  reorganize  on  the  basis 
of  democracy.  He  may  not  be  able  to  in- 
spire his  employes  with  his  faith  in  democracy ; 
his  organization  may  not  be  the  final  type  of 
a  democracy;  but  there  is  a  vision  of  the  dem- 
ocratic future,  which  cannot  be  without  per- 
manent enlightenment,  in  this  gift  of  a  man's 
talent  and  dreams  to  the  impersonal  industry 
of  the  future. 

This  episode,  coming  immediately  after 
publicity  had  been  given  the  will  of  the  prince 
of  department  store  builders,  the  contrast  is 
marked.  The  greatest  department  store  in 
the  world,  in  size  and  service,  was  organized  in 
[178] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


Chicago  by  a  mercantile  genius.  He  did  his 
work  well;  he  made  his  store  beautiful  and 
serviceable  to  the  customer,  and  so  attractive 
to  the  employes  that  they  are  reported  to  have 
taken  part  of  their  remuneration  in  the  satis- 
faction of  working  there.  By  his  extraordi- 
nary ability,  this  captain  of  industry  amassed 
a  fortune  of  over  a  hundred  millions  of  dol- 
lars, a  sum  so  vast  that,  in  terms  of  life,  it  was 
meaningless  even  to  its  possessor.  When  he 
died,  he  left  that  fortune  entailed,  so  that  his 
will  continues  to  control  it  for  at  least  fifty 
years,  determining  the  lives  of  his  employes 
and  his  family  arbitrarily,  under  conditions 
which  he  had  no  power  to  anticipate.  That 
great,  autocratic,  industrial  genius  is  going  to 
remain  in  personal  control  of  the  lives  of  thou- 
sands of  people  for  at  least  fifty  years  after 
death. 

Can  one  avoid  contrasting  the  mission  and 
ambition  of  these  two  men  ?  One  of  them  felt 
— though  not  necessarily  in  the  old,  theological 
sense, — that  he  had  an  immortal  soul,  and  that 
he  was  going  to  save  it  by  letting  it  live  on  in 
[179] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

a  great  multitude  of  people  for  years  to  come: 
the  other  felt  that  he  must  continue  to  hold 
tight  his  own  influence,  without  regard  to  the 
personalities  this  might  dominate.  The  idea 
of  personal  immortality  of  the  latter  was  lim- 
ited by  material  and  perishable  things ;  the  con- 
ception of  impersonal  immortality  of  the  for- 
mer has  infinite  spiritual  possibilities. 

Similar  potentialities  lie  before  us  in  the 
satisfaction  of  the  physical  wants.  Some- 
where between  sensualism  and  asceticism  may 
be  found  a  norm  of  physical  satisfaction, 
which  has  both  individual  and  social  value. 
As  Paul  says,  "Whether,  therefore,  ye  eat  or 
drink,  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory 
of  God."  Physical  satisfactions  are  impera- 
tive; but  they  range  from  the  reproduction  of 
the  species  to  bestial  intemperance.  The  body 
is  sacred,  worthy  of  admiration  and  enjoy- 
ment, but  it  is  subject  to  abuse;  instead  of  be- 
ing ignored  by  the  spiritually  aspiring,  it  must 
be  accorded  the  finest  valuation. 

For  the  purpose  of  immortality,  the  most 
immediate  function  of  the  body  is  reproduc- 
[180] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


tion,  which  will  furnish  the  surest  way  of  per- 
petuating ourselves;  but  we  cannot  all  have 
children,  and  this  is  not  the  only  avenue  to 
physical  immortality.  We  have  not  yet  done 
justice  to  the  meaning  of  physical  heredity; 
but  a  still  more  unexplored  field  is  spirit- 
ual heredity.  We  are  the  products  of  envir- 
onment, while  we  make  environment.  Every 
physical  act  has  its  consequence,  as  has  every 
economic  or  social  act,  in  determining  collec- 
tive habits.  If  we  are  intemperate,  and  our 
sensualism  takes  the  form  of  drunkeness  or 
gluttony,  it  allies  our  acts  with  the  influence 
of  all  other  sensualists,  and  coupled  with  the 
frequent  reaction  from  asceticism,  will  tend 
to  undermine  all  standards  of  temperance. 
In  the  physical  world,  as  in  the  artistic,  the 
rational  division  is  that  made  by  John  Ruskin : 
into  purists,  who  select  only  the  good;  sen- 
sualists, who  select  only  the  evil;  and  natural- 
ists, who  see  life  as  it  is. 

The  satisfaction  of  the  social  want  brings 
us  more  immediately  to  our  obligations  to  our 
fellow  men.     This,  at  least,  receives  strong 
[181] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

consideration  from  all  orthodox  religious 
teachers.  The  vast  amount  of  attention  given 
to  petty,  human  responsibilities  would  not 
seem  extravagant,  if  only  equal  zeal  were  ex- 
hibited in  the  removal  of  those  fundamental 
causes  of  conflict  among  men,  which  make  the 
social  relations  difficult.  It  is  true  that  con- 
sideration for  others  frequently  negatives  it- 
self into  conventionality  that  is  hypocritical 
and  distasteful;  but  there  is  virtue  in  the  most 
assiduous  cultivation  of  the  lubricant  of  cour- 
tesy, which  enables  the  great  social  wheels  to 
revolve  without  friction.  Sympathy  and  re- 
spect are  needed  in  the  household,  in  society, 
on  the  street-car,  in  public  places,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  them  will  be  multiplied  as  the  ap- 
preciation of  the  common  life  grows.  What 
a  commentary  on  our  contemporary  civiliza- 
tion is  the  daily  chapter  of  little  discourtesies, 
largely  due  to  the  close  focus  which  obscures 
the  infinite  consequences  of  trivial  acts! 

While  some  people  have   difficulty  in  the 
kindly  treatment  of  those  they  love  most,  there 
are  others  whose  temperaments  and  philosophy 
[182] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


of  life,  facilitate  a  spontaneous  hobnobbing 
with  humanity.  One  of  the  most  lovable  per- 
sonalities developed  in  American  life  was 
Mayor  Samuel  M.  Jones  of  Toledo,  beloved 
by  nearly  everybody  in  that  city,  and  by  all 
who  really  knew  him.  A  casual  remark  once 
brought  from  a  young  man  in  a  remote  city 
the  narrative  of  a  simple  incident  in  which 
Mayor  Jones  was  the  unconscious  hero.  A 
group  of  college  students  were  returning  home 
on  the  train  for  their  vacation,  and  were  hav- 
ing the  hilarious  time  that  sudden  relaxation 
provokes.  Mayor  Jones,  in  passing  through 
the  car,  wTas  attracted  by  their  youthful  en- 
thusiasm and  spent  several  hours  visiting  with 
them  and  giving  the  benediction  of  his 
sprightly  and  sunny  conversation.  Only  by 
chance  at  leaving  did  they  discover  his  identity, 
but  they  learned  that  he  never  lost  an  oppor- 
tunity to  commune  with  people  who  were 
thoroughly  alive,  regardless  of  locality.  More 
important,  he  left  on  them  an  impress  that 
will  never  be  forgotten.  He  had  radiated  the 
influence  of  his  benignant  humanity,  which  the 
[183] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

4 

great  souls  of  the  world  may  communicate  to 
the  crowd,  as  to  those  in  intimate  fellowship. 
Such  characters  are  found  not  only  among 
men  in  public  life,  but  in  women  of  domestic 
inclinations.  Such  a  one  was  Mrs.  Henry  D. 
Lloyd,  of  whom  a  friend  said,  in  seeing  her 
go  down  the  street; —  "There  goes  Jessie 
Bross  Lloyd, — trailing  the  beatitudes!"  It 
may  be  said  that  such  a  character  is  born,  not 
made,  but  one  cannot  tell  in  what  environment 
it  may  thrive,  nor  how  far  it  may  be  cultivated. 
When  in  search  of  an  example  of  how  an 
unknown  person  can  leave  his  mark  upon  the 
world,  one  should  read  the  life  of  Francis 
Place,  by  Graham  Wallas  of  London.  Fran- 
cis Place  was  a  tailor  who  lived  in  the  first  half 
of  the  last  century.  He  was  reared  in  a  sweat- 
shop, and  for  years  endured  degrading  pov- 
erty; but  he  had  a  dissatisfied  mind  which,  re- 
belling against  the  lot  of  the  working  man,  led 
him  to  resolve  to  make  money  as  the  first  con- 
dition of  a  larger  life.  He  succeeded  beyond 
any  reasonable  expectations,  and  having  ac- 
quired a  comfortable  fortune,  deliberately  re- 
[184] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


tired  from  business,  to  devote  himself  to  pub- 
lic life.  As  a  political  radical,  trained  in  the 
atmosphere  of  the  '20s,  and  incited  by  his  rap- 
idly acquired  competence,  he  threw  himself 
into  the  agitation  for  the  extension  of  the 
suffrage. 

With  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  there  are  as- 
sociated many  distinguished  names;  but  these 
are  the  figure-heads  of  a  political  revolution 
directed  from  the  humble  home  of  the  retired 
tailor.  If  the  franchise  has  been  twice  ex- 
tended since  then,  until,  with  the  demand  for 
woman's  suffrage,  it  promises  to  become  uni- 
versal; if  the  British  city  is  more  democratic 
than  the  American,  and  does  its  work  better 
in  spite  of  the  aristocratic  crust  at  the  top;  if 
there  is  a  better  labor  representation  in  Parlia- 
ment than  in  the  American  Congress,  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  overestimate  the  credit  which  is  due 
to  this  almost  unknown  tailor.  Nine  out  of 
ten  of  the  readers  of  these  lines  may  never 
have  heard  of  Francis  Place,  yet  he  was  not 
only  one  of  the  prophets,  but  one  of  the  great 
statesmen  of  modern  democracy.  The  believ- 
[185] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

ers  in  democratic  religion  owe  a  debt  of  grati- 
tude to  Graham  Wallas  for  having  unearthed 
his  manuscript  memoirs  in  the  British  Mu- 
seum. 

One  must  not  overlook  the  cosmic  instinct 
of  this  simple  tailor.  He  saw  that  the  great- 
est need  of  his  time  was  the  perfection  of  the 
organization  of  the  state.  The  highest  con- 
ception which  can  be  a  practical  guide  to  the 
individual  who  would  be  of  service  to  human- 
kind, is  that  which  sees  the  intrinsic  value  in 
united  effort.  The  co-working  of  citizens  is 
humanity's  triumph  over  the  anarchy  of  the 
jungle.  Loyal  citizenship  is  the  truest  serv- 
ice, for  society  is  vested  with  an  immortality 
which  cannot  be  ascribed  to  the  individual. 

A  commercial  and  scientific  age  is  naturally 
unfriendly  to  art.  Taste  is  a  quality  we  are 
inclined  to  attribute  to  the  people  who  are  for- 
tunate enough  to  be  insensible  to  the  material- 
izing and  vulgarizing  incubus  of  modern  in- 
dustrialism. The  profitableness  of  the  ugly 
has  not  only  resulted  in  the  defacement  of  the 
world,  but  has  produced  a  philosophy  in  which 
[186] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


beauty  is  regarded  as  a  luxury.  The  demand 
for  the  enjoyment  of  the  fulness  of  life  will 
involve  the  revolt  against  these  conditions. 
The  hard,  insensitive,  industrial  mind  will  have 
to  yield  to  the  surviving,  emotional  sensitive 
temperaments,  until  the  latter  can  voice  the 
cramped  desires  of  the  multitude,  who  yield 
to-day  to  what  they  regard  as  an  inexorable 
materialism.  One  may  have  a  large  intellec- 
tual conception  of  life,  and  still  be  less  alert 
than  a  savage  to  beautiful  things.  One  may 
live  in  a  slum  under  grinding  poverty,  and  still 
have  longings  for  the  beautiful.  It  is  foolish 
to  ask  people  who  live  in  squalor  to  rejoice  in 
the  songs  of  the  birds  which  make  the  air  of 
the  country  resonant,  or  to  long  for  the  moun- 
tainside which  suggests  to  them  only  loneli- 
ness. Yet  this  is  a  sphere  instinct  with  the 
sensuous,  and  progress  toward  the  good  and 
true  will  be  impeded  until  our  senses  are  at- 
tuned to  hear  and  see  the  beautiful.  For 
harmony  in  the  industrial  world,  there  can  be 
no  better  aid  than  the  cultivation  of  taste, 
which  will  make  the  consumer  responsive  to  the 
[187] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

more  beautiful  and  better  things,  insisting  at 
the  same  time  on  a  superior  environment  for 
the  worker. 

The  satisfaction  of  the  intellectual  want 
may  be  illusory,  because  it  is  often  regarded 
as  the  one  sure  expression  of  impersonal  im- 
mortality. The  great  primitive  literatures 
were  preserved  without  writing;  thought  is 
transmitted  through  the  generations.  For  the 
individual,  there  is  the  same  insidious  tempta- 
tion to  over-indulgence  in  this  as  in  any  of  the 
other  wants.  There  is  the  possibility  that  he 
will  become  so  satisfied  with  self -culture  that 
he  will  not  appreciate  his  own  need  of  other 
things,  or  others'  mind-hunger.  Not  all  in- 
tellectual ambitions  are  guided  by  Matthew 
Arnold's  conception  of  culture:  "The  great 
men  of  culture  are  those  who  have  had  a  pas- 
sion for  diffusing,  for  making  prevail,  for 
carrying  from  one  end  of  society  to  the  other, 
the  best  knowledge,  the  best  ideas  of  their 
time;  who  have  labored  to  divest  knowledge 
of  all  that  was  harsh,  uncouth,  difficult,  ab- 
stract, professional,  exclusive;  to  humanize  it, 
[188] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


to  make  it  efficient  outside  the  clique  of  the 
cultivated  and  learned,  yet  remaining  the  best 
knowledge  and  thought  of  the  time,  and  a 
true  source,  therefore,  of  sweetness  and  light." 

The  satisfaction  of  the  moral,  like  the  intel- 
lectual want,  is  in  danger  of  being  taken  for 
granted.  This  calamity  is  minimized  by  a 
proper  recognition  of  the  moral  quality  of  the 
fulness  of  life  involved  in  the  satisfaction  of 
the  other  human  wants.  One  may  need  to  be 
reminded,  however,  that  in  additon  to  the 
wider  expression  of  sympathy  and  love,  there  is 
indispensable  a  conception  of  justice.  As  Mr. 
R.  T.  Crane,  the  great  manufacturer,  said  in 
an  address  in  Chicago,  "It  is  desirable  even  for 
policy's  sake  to  be  honest;  but  even  when  hon- 
esty is  a  disinterested  motive,  it  is  still  better 
to  be  fair."  Sympathy  and  love  are  misdi- 
rected unless  guided  by  justice. 

The  enlargement  of  the  horizon  by  the  at- 
tempt to  attain  the  fulness  of  life  gives  one  a 
vision  of  the  universal  which,  in  the  best  sense, 
is  religious.  It  will,  it  is  true,  also  raise  the 
moral  standard,  but  that  will  better  enable  one 
[189] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

to  see  how  many  big  souls  there  are  in  humble 
places.  Accessions  of  knowledge,  or  even  of 
virtue,  may  produce  a  kind  of  vanity,  but  en- 
tering into  the  fulness  of  life  will  bring  mod- 
esty, tolerance  and  respect.  Barrett  Wendell 
says  that  the  doctrine  of  election  is  democratic 
because  one  never  knows  who  may  be  among 
the  elect.  This  may  not  be  good  theology,  but 
it  is  good  sociology.  One  cannot  afford  to  be 
intolerant  or  disrespectful,  for  the  possessor 
of  some  exceptionally  objectionable  character- 
istic may  have  some  other  qualities  which  com- 
mand our  profoundest  respect. 

Democratic  religion  will  eliminate  prejudice. 
The  prejudice  of  class-consciousness  cannot 
bear  to  have  the  light  of  investigation  thrown 
on  the  basis  of  social  justice.  Sex  prejudice 
cannot  survive  the  revelations  which  come  from 
the  experience  of  the  richer  life,  founded  on 
the  complementary  relationship  of  the  sexes. 
Race  prejudice  weakens  with  the  discovery  of 
the  peculiar  but  misunderstood  excellences  of 
other  races.  The  wonted  boastfulness  of  the 
white  man,  born  of  his  new  and  vigorous  west- 
[190] 


Impersonal  Immortality 


ern  civilization,  may  be  subdued  as  he  comes  to 
appreciate  the  enduring  civilization  of  the  yel- 
low man ;  or  he  may  grow  indulgent  toward  the 
immaturity  of  the  negro,  in  contrast  with  the 
premature  degeneracy  of  some  members  of  his 
own  race.  Theological  prejudices  must  van- 
ish if  religion  is  measured  in  terms  of  life,  and 
the  life  eternal  is  seen  to  be  determined  by 
deeds,  rather  than  words. 

There  is  a  wonderful  statement  in  the  book 
of  Job  which  has  been  much  abused  by  the 
theologians : —  "I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liv- 
eth."  Christian  theology  perpetuated  the 
statement  and  made  it  prophetic;  but  the  He- 
brews themselves  had  an  interpretation  more 
probable  and  equally  profound,  which  is  found 
in  the  Second  Isaiah,  the  central  theme  of 
which  is,  "My  Redeemer  is  the  people."  The 
people  are  to  redeem  themselves.  Our  ashes 
fertilize  the  soil  from  which  life  springs,  but 
souls  also  kindle  souls.  I  do  not  know  when 
my  Redeemer  will  live,  or  whose  Redeemer  I 
may  be,  except  in  the  sense  in  which  every  man 
is  our  Redeemer  and  we  are  his  Redeemer. 
[191] 


The  Religion  of  a  Democrat 

Some  there  are  who  are  redeemed  by  touching 
the  life  of  an  individual;  some  there  are  who 
are  redeemed  by  entering  into  the  life  of  hu- 
manity. The  redemption  of  the  people  will 
be  by  means  of  impersonal  immortality, — the 
crux  of  democratic  religion. 


[192] 


THE  ART  OF  LIFE  SERIES 

EDWARD  HOWARD  GRIGGS,  Editor 
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great  pleasure.     It  is  timely  and  practical." 

SENATOR  LAFOLLETTE  says :  "  It  is  a  book  of  direct  personal  help- 
fulness and  has  a  stimulating  message  for  the  young  and  the  mature." 

"A  very  suggestive,  thought-provoking  volume,  written  especially 
for  those  who  are  settling  down  in  life  and  who  are  infected  with  the 
personal-history  disease,  also  for  those  who  are  supersensitive  and 
always  being  misunderstood." — Review  of  Reviews. 

To  be  had  at  all  Bookstores,  or  of 

B.  W.  HUEBSCH          Publisher          NEW  YORK 


BR 


iff 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACIUTY 


A     000  891  596     9 


